Daughter of Poseidon
by AlyNoel849
Summary: This is a story of Percy's sister Atlanta and all her trials as a demi-god trying to survive the mortal world. Her's happens to be full of abuse and neglect, love and loss, and her sense of identity. She and her crew of young demi-gods have to hash it out, just trying to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was just after breakfast and I was on my way to the arena to practice. It was spring break and I had just gotten back from a sort of mini mission trying to slow down Kronos' forces when Annabeth came running up to me. "Hey Percy," I smiled at her and was about to reply.

Then I noticed that look in her eyes. Her stormy gray eyes looked like she was thinking at a million miles an hour. "Hey, what's up?" I said concerned.

"Chiron needs us for a counselors meeting. He said it was really important."

"Oh alright, walk with me?" I gestured toward the Big House.

She flashed me a smile. My heart thumped. _Gods, I love her smile,_ I thought."Sorry Seaweed Brain, I've got to round up the other counselors. Save me a seat?"

"Yeah, sure," I said smiling. We went our separate ways. My smile faded as I wondered what could be so important. We usually had meeting at the first of the month or in times of emergency, other than the mini mission, I couldn't think of anything that everyone had to be there for.

I sat there, looking at the girl lying in the infirmary cot, wondering. She slept heavily, on her stomach, with her face mushed in the pillow. She was skinny, well muscled in her arms and legs, but skinny, like she'd never gotten a decent meal more than once or twice a week. She had dark black hair and long legs; one looked hastily bandaged at the knee. I wouldn't have guessed she'd be more than 15 years old.

Next to her, in the same cot (the infirmary ran out of space for them apparently), was a little boy no more than 4 years old. He was also scrawny, but it was much more noticeable than the girl's appearance. He had light blonde hair and big eyes, or he would have had big eyes if they were open. He was asleep too; curled up into a little ball at the girl's side as if he slept that way all the time.

In the next cot lay two girls that looked identical to each other. Well, as far as height, weight (I'm assuming), and facial features went. They were dressed in opposite colors. _If you had twins you'd do the same thing, so you could tell them apart,_ I thought subconsciously, not really sure why I had just assumed they were twins. The girls had long limbs and elf like features with slightly curly rich brown hair. They slept splayed out all over each other like they were sleep-fighting over who got the most space. It looked to me like the girl on the right had gotten the space, her limbs all over the place including an arm on top of her sister's head. The sister on the left had gotten the bed sheets though; she slept completely covered with just her head poking out and one arm hanging over the cot's edge, like her sister would unknowingly push her off any minute. They were fairly tall, skinny, and lanky so it was hard to just guess their age.

In the cot that ran long ways at the foot of the two others was another girl. _My gods,_ I thought, _how did they all get along for all this time, a bunch a teenage girls?_ I shook the thought from my head. I'd seen the Aphrodite girls get into it quite a few times, not a pretty site. Though these didn't look like the type of girls to fight over handbags, belts, and bracelets I didn't want to think about it.

This girl was broad and muscular, like a natural born warrior. She had stringy, stick straight, light brown hair and a small mouth perfect for twisting into a scowl. She was the shortest and the youngest (Again, I'm assuming) of the group besides the little boy; 10 at best. She slept with an arm behind her head, one across her stomach, and one leg bent and propped against the wall.

All of them wore really worn out clothes. _Like Goodwill rejects,_ I couldn't help thinking, no matter how rude it was. Their pants were too short, showing ankles. _High waters,_ I remembered my mom calling them. Their tops were either way too big or just a bit snug. Stains and little wholes littered them and their jeans had big holes in them and not the kind that are there on purpose. I silently hope that their under things weren't Goodwill rejects too. Gross.

On top of that their outfits were ripped, torn, and monster blood stained; the unmistakable mark of demigods fresh out of a good fight. Or a bad fight. I wasn't sure yet.

Chiron had, not but 5 minutes ago, directed me up to the infirmary instead down to the rec room for the meeting, for some odd reason. _Well, this was the odd reason_. These demigods must be important. He thought they would mean something to the grand scheme of things.

I waited, just kind of taking in everything. My thoughts were interrupted by other camp counselors joining me in the infirmary. Katie Gardener entered first, looking extremely annoyed, followed closely behind by two pleased looking Stoll brothers. I silently wondered what prank they had pulled on the Demeter cabin this week.

"Aww, C'mon Katie. Lighten up a little," Travis was saying.

"Shut up Travis, I'm not speaking to you." She replied firmly.

"That's speaking isn't it?" Katie scowled deeply at this comment. She opened her mouth to say something then thought better of it and crossed her arms making a _hmph_ sound. The Stoll's just snickered.

"Didn't like your chocolate Easter Bunnies?" Connor asked.

"Not on my cabin's roof, no I did not." More snickers. _Well, that explains it._

Next, Silena Beauregard walked in laughing and hand and hand with her boyfriend Charles Beckendorf, who had a goofy smile plastered on his face. Clarisse La Rue, Michael Yew, and Pollux straggled in within the next few minutes. Everyone seemed shocked to see the new demigods lying in the infirmary and quieted the conversations and giving worried looks instead. Annabeth and Chiron came in last.

I had already had a few theories about the demigods developed in my mind. I didn't consider any of them seriously, just waiting for Chiron to confirm or deny them. "Good afternoon everyone," Chiron said. "Well, let's get down to business. As I'm sure you have noticed we have… quite a few topics to cover."

There were a few mutters "yea I can tell"s and "you think"s directed at the crowded infirmary. I had just now noticed a few stray members of the Apollo cabin pulling out nectar, carefully redoing the dark haired girl's bandaged knee and tending to the other's minor bumps and bruises.

"But first things first," Chiron insisted. "Beckendorf, Percy how did the bus bombing mission go?"

Beckendorf looked at me and I nodded for him to continue. "The bus bombing was an extreme success." I could tell from his voice that he was pleased with the job we'd done. "The Greek bombs went off the second the first harpy flushed. The whole bus went up in flames with not a single survivor." Silena, who was still holding his hand, beamed at him. If Beckendorf was the blushing type of guy I guarantee that he would have done so then. He looked at me and grinned. "Percy caused a great distraction for me."

I smiled in return. "It was your skills, dude. You rigged the things. I was just there."

"I don't know what you two are smiling for," Clarisse butted in, "It's not like that is going to stop Kronos for long. A week at the very most."

"Well, that's a pleasant thought." Connor Stoll muttered sarcastically.

"She's right though," Annabeth said, "as much as I hate to say it, she's right."

"'Course I'm right, Bird Brain!" Clarisse countered. "You think that Kronos is going to be dumb enough to let a few Greek bombs slow him down any longer than that?!"

"I didn't say that Clarisse," Annabeth said through gritted teeth. I could tell she was trying to keep a cool head about where this conversation was heading, but it wasn't working out so well. Not that I could say I wasn't as stressed as she was, with a huge war right around the corner and the Prophecy….. Well, I couldn't blame her. "I was agreeing with you; name calling is unnecessary."

"Oh well… you should be ….agreeing then." Clarisse said rather dumbly. _No apology_ , I thought, _typical._

"I have a short mission that I think the Apollo and Ares cabins would be best for if you are up to the challenge." Chiron stated.

"Only always," Clarisse practically barked. "But working with Yew is going to be an issue."

"Believe me you're no bucket of sunshine either." Michael said.

Clarisse glared viciously at him and started to say something but Chiron chimed in, "I'm sure you two can work everything out. You will have plenty of time to prepare for this mission."

"And now…..," Chiron got a far away and sad look in his eyes as he turned to the group of new demigods laying in the cots, "these demigods…. I should have known better than to let this happen."

He sounded incredibly angry with himself. I'd never heard him sound like that before. "These demigods are from southern Mississippi. They went through years of troubles and monsters and bull crap," with each word he sounded that much harsher; that much more furious with it all. His last words drew a gasp from everyone's lips. _Wow this IS bothering him!_ Annabeth and I exchanged looks of worry.

"To get here," he continued,

"And the oldest girl here," he gestured to the dark haired girl with the bandaged knee,

"Atlanta Nicole Jones; she is a daughter of Poseidon."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Whoa! Wait….. What?!_ My head shot toward Annabeth. My first reaction was to see if she had known this beforehand. _My sister._ This girl, lying here, in an infirmary cot, passed out, was my half sister. _…. Whhaaaaat?!_

Now I know what you're thinking, _Gee, Percy, what a lovely reaction! That would make me feel_ so _welcome!_ But, in my defense, Atlanta was asleep and it's not like I had said it out loud, right?

Annabeth had a blank expression on her face. "How can you be sure?" she challenged. Chiron's eyes were glued to the dark haired girl in the cot, while I felt just about everyone else's on me. He didn't answer her.

"H- how can you be so sure, Chiron?" My words came out stuttered and slow. "She hasn't been claimed yet."

With his index figure and thumb, Chiron closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose. "I should have known better." He muttered.

"Known better than what, Chiron?" Annabeth prodded.

"Known better than to have been so stupid, of course." Mr. D called from the doorway. He stepped into the room and all eyes turned to him.

"6 years old, Chiron." He said in almost disgust. Chiron put his head in his hands and shook his head. I'd never seen him looking so….. disgraced. "It all started… Well, let's let Iris explain, shall we? She'll do a much better job."

Mr. D made a sweeping motion with his arm toward the empty space above the cots. A rainbow appeared and an image formed. I was almost shocked that he hadn't needed to offer a drachma, but then again this is a Greek god we are talking about.

"Anything for you Lord Dionysus," came a female voice from the rainbow. It would have sounded sweet, but it came out slightly agitated sounding. Mr. D, however, nodded like he hadn't noticed. _You'd be agitated if you'd been cheated out of a drachma or two,_ I thought.

The image in the rainbow continued to form. Everyone was still looking at Mr. D. "Well, pay attention!" he snapped "This is for your benefit; especially you Peter Johnson." He pointed at me and for a millisecond I thought about correcting him, but the image in the rainbow developed and meaningless sound sputtered from it as it morphed into what it was supposed to be showing.

"B-But M-Mama!" the sob came from a small child standing in front of what looked like a school building. 'Mama' was kneeling in front of the little girl holding both of her small hands in hers. The little girl was wearing her dark hair in pig tail braids and her big sea green eyes where puffy and red from the water works.

"Sweetie, you've gotta go ta school so you can grow up 'n' be as smart as we both ya are." Mama said to her, as she brushed her own brown hair out of her hazel eyes.

"Canchya come with me though? I don't wanna go alone." Atlanta muttered pulling at her white blouse.

Both of their accents were thick and southern. They left of the a and the d in the word 'and'. Words like 'you' and 'to' were shortened using a instead of the proper vowels. Verbs that were followed by 'to' were usually lumped together. These unofficial rules of southern speaking weren't used all the time, however. They spoke this way in casual conversation. When they wanted to, or needed to, they would revert back to "proper" ways of speaking.

"It's just kindergarten! You were so excited to go last week. What happened?" she said almost laughing.

"Well… well… that was a week ago!" the little Atlanta protested "This is today! I've changed my mind!"

Ms. Jones just laughed, grabbed her daughters hand, and together they headed into the building. "Mrs. Olivia is going to take good care of you, okay baby?" she said when they'd reached the door.

"Yes, ma'am," She said stepping away from her mother. I had to admit this girl was brave. I'd seen kindergartners cry their eyes out and have to be pulled kicking and screaming from their parents.

"Well, say hello, introduce yourself." Ms. Jones said giving Atlanta an encouraging smile.

Atlanta stepped forward. She said hello to her teacher with a big a smile on her face. The teacher knelt to be at her level and asked her name.

"Atlanta Nicole Jones" was her response.

The teacher straightened. "In that order, huh? That's a big name for such a little girl." Mrs. Olivia joked.

"I'm not that little!" Atlanta protested, "I can say my ABC's 'n' 123's 'n' everythin'!" She stated this like it was something to brag about. I suppose at her age it would be, but I couldn't help but laugh and neither could anyone else in the room; including Mrs. Olivia for that matter.

"Oh really now? Well, let's get you seated then," she reached for the little girls hand but Atlanta was too fast for her. The little girl spun around and flung her arms around her mother's neck.

"Bye Mama! I love you!"

Ms. Jones held her close. "Bye Baby," she said softly. "I love you."

Atlanta pulled away slightly and looked up at her mom. "Bunches 'n' bunches 'n' very, very much 'n' much, much more!" She said this with the biggest, brightest smile on her face.

"With all my heart." Atlanta turned back around and headed into the kindergarten classroom and was gone.

Ms. Jones stood up and wiped the corners of her eyes before tears could spill over, "God, my baby."

The image shifted to an image of the back of Atlanta's head. She had a single black braid trailing down her back. A small hand moved yanked the braid and shot back down to the desk.

In response, Atlanta's head whipped around to glare at the culprit. It was a blonde haired, blue eyed little boy. "Stop it, Danny," she said firmly.

She turned around but was assaulted again. She turned around in time to see the little boys hand make its way back down to the desk. Atlanta glared, but Danny just snickered as did the boy sitting next to him. "Stop," Atlanta said fiercely.

"Did everyone have a good Christmas break?" Mrs. Olivia was saying. "Atlanta celebrated a birthday over the few weeks we were out and her mom sent in cupcakes."

Atlanta was faced forward, ginning at her teacher when _yank_. She whipped her head around to see Danny and his friend snickering.

"Stop it right now Danny. I _will_ hurt you." Her little first clenched fight at her sides as she shot him a menacing glare. I had no doubt in my mind that was beyond true.

"Atlanta, turn around sweetie and we will sing for you dear." Mrs. Olivia called.

"Yeah Atlanta, turn around." Danny teased. Her fist clenched even tighter, if that was even possible, but she faced forward and put a smile on her face.

"There you are, sweetie," Mrs. Olivia said as she set a big chocolate cupcake in front of Atlanta. The cupcake was topped with extra blue icing and a single burning candle. "When was your birthday, Atlanta?"

"December 18th."

My heart crept into my throat. _5 months. That would make us only 5 months apart._

The class proceeded to sing and Atlanta blew out her candle after pondering for a moment to making her wish. A little brunette with wide eyes to match nudged her.

"What'dya wish for?" she asked in a sweet sounding voice.

"I wished Danny would stop pulling on my braids." Atlanta spoke loud enough that Danny would've been able to hear.

The girl laughed at this. "Good luck with that one, hun," she bit into her cupcake. "Mmm, these are good. Happy late birthday, by the way. I had a fun time at your party; the pony was super cool."

"Thanks Lisa," she laughed. "You've icing on your nose, just so you know." She felt an all too familiar sharp, quick tug at her braid.

Atlanta whirled around to face her attacker. She glared with all the might her 6 year old self could muster. "Your wish won't come true if ya say it out loud!" Danny laughed.

Atlanta's eyes softened and her set jaw gaped ever so slightly; she wasn't looking at Danny any more. She was staring out the window in the back of the classroom. Standing there, staring back at her was a tall figure in a long black trench coat and black hat. The wind was blowing and the hat threatened to fly off. It didn't but you could see the man's features; crooked mouth full of nasty crooked teeth, big nose, and an eye. _An eye,_ thought Atlanta. _An eye as in singular!_

"Atlanta, what are you looking at dear?"

"Nothin', Mrs. Olivia." She said it in a very unsure voice. Mrs. Olivia didn't notice.

"Well, let's finish your cupcake then."

"Yes ma'am." She turned to face forward very slowly, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to take her eyes of the creature.

 _Yank!_ She turned back around, but paid no attention to Danny; he was just her excuse now. The one eyed man in the window was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Atlanta hoped off a loud, noisy school bus. She stepped off at the end of a paved street and made her way down a dirt road lined with woods. She was dressed in boots, jeans, a red t shirt that had ginger bread man on it, and a white sip up hoody. The wind was blowing, making the trees dance. The woods got further and further away from edge of from the road but Atlanta stayed faithful. The woods opened up fully to reveal, towering over her, stood a lighthouse.

It stood 5 stories high and had on it a thick black stripe spiraling down its tall white figure. It sat on an overhang looking straight out on to the Gulf of Mexico.

Question flew through my mind. It was Annabeth who put one of them to words. "Southern Mississippi, you said? That must be the Gulf, so Biloxi maybe?"

"Think closer to Louisiana; somewhere on the border perhaps," It was Mr. D who answered her.

I took me a moment to realize that Atlanta lived there. That is, in the little white house conjoined to it. Sure enough, she walked right in. "Mama! I'm home!"

"In the kitchen, babe," was the response she heard somewhere of to the left.

The entrance to the house was beautiful. Everything was done in dark stained, original wood. To the right was a spiraling stair case that went all the way to the top of the light house itself. Atlanta kicked off her shoes and threw her book bag down. She was about to walk away when her mother's voice came from off to the left again. "We have a closet by the door for a reason, Atlanta Nicole, 'n' your shoes go in your room."

"How?" she asked to herself, bewildered. She did as she was told; put her bag inside the closet directly left of the door and put her shoes in front of the closet in her room.

Her room was plain white but had blue trim, her bed sheets were a rich, dark blue to match, and she had a big stuffed horse sitting on the bed. There was a desk covered in crayons and paper and finger paints. The walls around her room were littered with crude drawing of horses, some with wings some without, and mermaids playing with fish, and princesses getting saved from towers guarded by dragons; all the things that 6 year old girls dream about.

She went to join her mother in the kitchen; walking through a brightly lit living room decked with luxurious brown leather couches and big ceramic lamps that faced huge floor to ceiling windows with an amazing view. There were all types of seashells, sand dollars, and dried star fish scattered on the walls and end tables. There was a huge salt water tank against one wall filled with exotic fish that she stopped to feed. Those along with the hard wood floors, fancy rugs, and endless pictures made me wonder what Ms. Jones did for a living.

Atlanta walked into a very modern, expensive looking kitchen to find her mom putting still warm, homemade cookies on a cookie rack. They were chocolate chip cookies, my personal favorite. What surprised me though, was that they were dyed bright blue the same was my mother made them.

"Cookies!" Atlanta squealed.

"Ah, no ma'am!" Ms. Jones hid two cookies behind her back without showing Atlanta. "Pick the right one and you can have it."

Atlanta took a minute to think. "Mmm, that one." She pointed to her mother's left hand. She gave her daughter the cookie, waited till she had taken a bite, then brought the other cookie out from behind her and ate it. "Hey!" protested Atlanta, but they both laughed good heartedly.

"Mama, why do ya make yerr cookies blue? No other mama's I know make their cookies blue."

"I make my cookies blue 'cause someone very special to me's favorite color is blue."

Atlanta smiled. She was, by then, seated on a bar stool at the island in the kitchen and ate the remainder of her blue cookie. She sat thoughtfully, her eye brows knit themselves in the middle, a clear sign she was thinking.

"Mama," she asked finally.

"Yes, baby?"

"You're awful smart, aren't ya?"

Ms. Jones looked up and saw her daughter's perfectly straight face. "Well," she laughed. "I like to think so, yes."

"Well, is it possible for a man ta be born with," she paused, considering again whether she should even ask. "With a single eye right here?" she reached up and touched the middle of her mom's forehead.

Ms. Jones had gone pale, like she had seen a ghost. "A-are you sure, Atlanta? Where did you see this person? Did they say anything to you? Atlanta this is more serious than you understand, are you sure?" She looked her right in the eyes trying to find something that hinted that she was just asking and there was no Cyclopes following her to school. She found in no such hint.

Ms. Jones pulled away from her daughter who was now staring at her like she was crazy. "This can't be happening. This isn't happening."

 _She knew._ Ms. Jones turned away, her head in her hands. She took a deep breath.

"Atlanta, your daddy is a….," _She defiantly knew. But will she tell her the truth?_ She paused and took another breath.

"He is a very special man; powerful 'n' important. Naturally, he has his fair share of enemies. These mo-… these people don't like you 'cause you're his daughter,"

"Well, that ain't fair! I ain't never done nothin' to them!"

"That…. that isn't quite how everyone thinks o' things, baby doll."

"That still ain't fair," Atlanta said, more to herself than anyone.

Ms. Jones had, by this time, turned around to clean up the kitchen. "Life isn't fair Atlanta, especially not yours. Go 'n' get yerr things for gymnastics."

Atlanta didn't move. "Mama, how can ya tell that these people are daddy's enemies?"

"This conversation is over. Go get your things for gym."

"Gym," Atlanta mussed. She got down off of the tall bar stool and walked out of the room.

Atlanta got off the bus yet again in her winter wear. _Oh, Gods, we are going to be sitting here reliving every day of her life._ I was wrong; there was a big time skip.

That evening, both Atlanta and her mom were in her room, Atlanta under the covers holding a book she must have wanted read to her.

"Atlanta, let's talk right now 'n' I'll read to you later." Ms. Jones said with some anxiousness in her voice.

Atlanta just nodded and her mother continued. "Well, you know mama's work,"

Atlanta interrupted immediately. "Oh yes ma'am. My mama discovers new fish 'n' brings me things from the sea 'n' has touched the bottom of the ocean! My mom has the best job ever!"

Ms. Jones blushed. "Yes, well mama's job takes her on trips 'n' well..."

Atlanta gasped out loud. "Is this the trip I get to go on with you?" She sounded so very excited. "Then I could swim with the fish 'n' touch the bottom of the ocean, too. I'm a fantastic swimmer!"

"No honey, let's slow down, ok? Hear me out. You can't go on this trip with me. I'm goin' with Mr. David 'n' Mr. James. I'll only be gone for 3 weeks at the very maximum."

Atlanta laid there pouting, arms crossed over her chest and bottom lip stuck out. "What are ya gonna be doin'?" she asked finally.

"We will be documenting the migratory patterns of the black tip and spinner sharks."

"In the middle of January?"

"Yes, the sharks migrate into warmer for the winter and we know they stick close to the shore line for their own guidance, but we want to know where they start. I mean, were talking thousands and thousands of sharks. They don't live in schools that size but they all come together to travel. We want to know why and were they are coming from and…"

I got the felling Ms. Jones could talk all night long about sharks and there migratory patterns and apparently so did Atlanta. Her small covered her mom's mouth ending her rant. "Thank you, Mom. Can we get to The Princess and the Frog now please?"

They proceeded to read the bed time story, which gave us counselors some time to talk.

"So her mom was a marine biologist. That might explain how she caught Poseidon's attention." Annabeth said. I just looked at her, not really sure what to say to that. Annabeth took notice and began to apologize "Oh, Percy I'm sorry. I didn't..."

I held up a hand to stop her. "Don't be. I know what you mean. The point is why her mom isn't in the in picture anymore."

"That'll be coming up next I assume. She's 6 at this point and, as Dad said, '6 years old'." Pollux stated with a pretty good imitation of Mr. D.

"If that's any indication we are getting close to when she figures out she's a demigod and something tells me 'Mama' won't be around for the ride." Katie added.

"III just liiike ta listen ta 'em taaalk." Travis said with a horrible and totally fake Southern drawl.

"Really?" Katie said with 'that look' on her face. The look all girls wore when they thought you were the dumbest person alive.

With that depressing thought the image changed.

Atlanta was sobbing uncontrollably in a chair in some office. It was a government office and, somewhere near, you could overhear a very interesting conversation.

We didn't see them talking just Atlanta sitting in the chair sobbing. She didn't listen; the conversation was just background noise.

"Like I told you detective, it was research. We were all in the water, I don't understand why but they only attacked her. My colleague and I came out perfectly fine, as you can see. I don't understand it, that's just how it happened. It was horrifying. Almost like the sharks had a bone to pick or somethin'." A male voice said.

"How close were you two with the deceased?" asked a female voice.

"We studied and worked together. I met her 3 or 4 years ago. I'd only ever heard her talk about it being her and her daughter." said a different male voice.

"I remember before Samantha was pregnant. She seemed pretty content alone; never heard her talk about a man. Focused on work I guess. I was shocked when Atlanta came to be, but Samantha thought nothing of it." The original man's voice stated.

"So the father isn't around?"

"Not that we know of, no ma'am"

"Well, thank you for your time gentlemen. I appreciate it." the detective said.

"Umm, ma'am? What is going to happen to Atlanta?" the second male voice asked.

"Social Services have been contacted. You sound pretty concerned, Mr. James. Is there something I'm missing?"

"Oh, n-no ma'am. It's jus' she's jus' a kid 'n' can't possibly understand what's goin' on 'n'… 'n' I've chilluns as well 'n'…" Mr. James stammered out his words clearly flustered with what the detective had implied. His official 'I'm in public; I must speak proper' diction failed him miserably, his accent becoming 5 times as prominent.

"I thank you for your concern Mr. James but I assure you, Atlanta will be fine. If you'll follow me, I'll show you out."

There was a door opening and shutting like they were coming out of an office. Atlanta looked up and proved me right. They group walked in her direction.

"Hey, Atlanta. How you doin'?" Mr. James asked.

"Hey, Mr. James. I'm ok, I guess. Been better." She replied wiping her eyes and tried so sound braver than she felt.

"Keep yerr head up hun. Yerr mama woulda been proud."

"Thanks, Mr. James."

The men left and the detective sat down at her desk. "Your social worker should be here soon. Can I get you anything?" She spoke much gentler to Atlanta than she had done with the other marine biologists.

Atlanta shook her head and tears started flowing again. "This is impossible. She said 3 weeks 'n then she jus'… She lied ta me. She said she'd be back in 3 weeks!" She sobbed horrible, just short of yelling at the detective. He accent got thicker the more upset she became.

The detective got up and came to comfort her but Atlanta pulled away from her, curling into herself.

"Atlanta, hunny, please don't…."

"NO! Leave me 'lone!... please. Please jus' leave me alone." She pleads became softer and softer until the little girl was just sobbing quietly to herself.

My stomach felt like a rock. A wave of guilt washed over me. I felt like I was going to throw up. She had lost someone important to her, the only person she had in this whole world. I thought of how many times I left my mom thinking I was dead. _Or Annabeth,_ said a small whisper from the back of my mind.

The detective left her be and returned to her paper work.

A tall, athletic looking, blonde picked just that moment to walk into the room. "Sorry I'm… Oh" she said when she saw Atlanta and the detective. _Is this her?_ She mouthed to the detective. She nodded; clearly unimpressed the blonde was late.

The blonde walked forward and knelt to be at Atlanta's level. "Atlanta?" she spoke in a whisper, careful not to startle her. Her startling gray eyes overflowed with concern for the child.

When Atlanta looked up and whipped her face and nodded she continued, "Hi. My name is Danielle Smith." She pulled out a little white business card and handed it to her.

"You're a...a," Atlanta's eyebrows crunched themselves in the middle.

 _Dyslexia._

"A Social Worker?"

She said it right but it took her a minute or two and then there was that question mark at the end. Yep. Dyslexia.

"Yes ma'am, I'm real sorry about this whole situation with yer mama but that's what I'm here for. Imma take good care of ya, ok?" Danielle had the same Southern accent, but it sounded more learned compared to Atlanta's natural one.

Atlanta just nodded.

"You look like you could use a good somethin' to eat, huh? Danielle shot a pointed look at the detective who glared back at her.

"How about we head over to my place? My husband oughtta have somethin' fixed. Does that sound, ok?"

She spoke in a gentle and friendly way. Atlanta; however, didn't look convinced. She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. "What does a social worker do anyway? What if I don't need taken care of?" she challenged.

Annabeth laughed next to me. "That'll be her Poseidon stubbornness showing."

I just looked at her, again not sure what to say, but the image continued.

"Ok then, I'll just take you back to your house and you can get a job and continue to go to school. You can raise and support yourself. How does that sound?"

Atlanta thought about it for a whole second. The challenging look drained from her face and she shook her head.

Danielle held out a hand for Atlanta to take. Instead of taking it she just kind of looked at it.

Danielle smiled and said, "Trust me. I do this for a living hunny, you'll be fine."

Atlanta took her hand and returned her smile. They left the office hand in hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Little Atlanta stood there just looking. We didn't see just what it was she was looking at until she spoke. "Pearl River County's Home for Children."

Danielle laughed, "Took you long enough, don't you think? We'll have to get that checked out."

Atlanta gave a puzzled look and Danielle continued, "Ever heard of Dyslexia? It's a reading disorder associated with impairment of the ability to interpret spatial relationships or to integrate auditory and visual information."

"It's a what, now?" Atlanta asked, arching her eyebrow.

"It affects the way you see words and letters and such."

"Oh… Well, how would you know?" she challenged, naturally.

"I've got it." Was all the response that Atlanta got before Danielle picked up her brief case and Atlanta 2 suitcases and shouldered her book bag. She looked a little funny, as small as she was, but we got our first glimpse of the Home for Children.

The building itself was extremely old. The paint on the widows was peeling, there were cracks in the widows here and there, and ivy grew up the brick, which I would've guessed helped hold it together, considering there were bricks out of place as well.

Besides the fact it was falling apart, the orphanage looked like it had been pulled out of a history book. It was 4 stories high and had rows of 6 windows each. It sat on a big piece land surrounded by woods, no doubt off some dirt road away from town. There were kids here and there; playing catch, or drawing on the side walk with rocks, and there were older kids talking in the shade.

Time seemed to stop as the pair made their way up the walk way. Everyone stopped and stared at Atlanta, like they were trying to piece together her story before she could tell it. On the front steps, stepped down a woman a good couple of years, it seemed, Danielle's senior. She had brown hair and sharp blue eyes. She wasn't very pretty though, even in her long winter dress. She had bags under her eyes and a long nose that seemed out of place on her face. The woman held a baby on her hip that she had to readjust when she came down from the steps to introduce herself.

"Hello again Miz Smith. How are ya?" the woman said.

"Well, I'm just fine. Thank you, Miss Reed. And yourself?"

Miss Reed just nodded. She looked distracted and depressed, like she had 100 other things to worry about.

"Well, I'd like you to meet Miss Atlanta Jones. Atlanta this is Miss Reed, the houses caretaker."

"Hello Miss Reed. It's nice to meet you." Atlanta stuck out her hand and they shook on it.

I was taken aback by their manners. They all spoke like that to each other. I wondered when the demigods woke up how they would greet everyone.

Miss Reed promptly ushered them into the house "The pleasure is mine, dear heart. Please make yourself feel at home. Frankie! Mayella! One of ya! Come help... Atlanta is it? Atlanta with her bags."

They had walked into the house to find a front room with a few old couches covered with children of all ages surrounding a tiny little TV that had some Disney movie playing. To the right there was a hall of rooms. There was a sudden cry form that direction. An older child got up and disappeared into one of them. At the other end of the hall you could see a stair case.

Bounding down the stair case was (I assume) Mayella and Frankie.

Frankie was a dark chocolate color all over: hair, skin, and eyes. His smile; however, was bright, white and beautiful. He was built like a football player, muscles rippling under his clothes as he laughed.

Mayella had dark hair, a deep, natural tan, and big caramel eyes, like she was of Native American decent. She was pretty without trying to be. She had a frown plastered on her face like she'd just got done arguing with Frankie. "Shut up already," she was saying.

"Awww, May. You know you love me." Frankie slung his arm over her shoulder.

"Ha! Not in this life time, hun." Mayella shrugged off his arm and took one of Atlanta's bags and marched back down the hall and up the stairs.

Frankie looked at Atlanta and smiled hugely at her, not worried too much that he was just totally dissed. "That's what she thinks, ain't it?" he winked at her cockily.

All the counselors laughed. Frankie was beginning to remind me of a few people I knew.

"Hi, hun. I'm Frankie Ronan. And you are?" he asked.

"Atlanta Nicole Jones." She replied.

"Beautiful," he said as he picked up her other bag. Atlanta blushed furiously and didn't say anything. "How old are you, Atlanta?"

Frankie made his way down the hall and to the stairs but Atlanta stayed at Danielle's side. Miss Reed and Danielle were already in a deep conversation. Atlanta looked up at her as if to get an ok but Danielle didn't see her. "Ummm, I've just turned 6 in December."

"Awww, c'mon," he beckoned from half way down the hall. "I'm not gonna bite ya. There's nothin' to be scared of."

She went.

"So," Frankie began to climb the steps and Atlanta followed. "6. That puts you on the second floor. Sweet! That's my floor."

"I'm sorry?"

"You see the floors go by age. The babies and toddlers all stay on the first floor. 0 through 5 year olds. Second floor is 6 through 10 year olds."

"But you said that was your floor. You don't look 6 through 10."

Frankie laughed, "No, I'm 17. When you get to be on the 4th floor, you just might get put in charge of a floor. Like I was saying 3rd floor is 11 through 15 year olds and the 4th is 16 though 18, which is when you age out of the system and you've gotta leave. There are only a few of us that actually make it to the 4th. They either get adopted at a younger age and you never see 'em again or fostered, there is that…."

Frankie seemed to be talking more to himself than Atlanta. She tried to absorb what he was saying and everything around her all at the same time. Frankie was talking about the latest couple that had grown up in the home and aged out of the system together and ran off and got married, while poking his head in the rooms and counting the beds.

He sounded really wistful so Atlanta interrupted him mid sentence, "Do you wish that could be you and Mayella one day?"

 _Smart kid._

"What? Oh, me and…. Oh gosh, no." He sounded really flustered and lost track of what he was supposed to be doing. "No, I just like to mess with Mayella 'cause I know it bugs her."

"Oh. Well, then what are you gonna do when you get too old?"

Frankie blushed, making his skin even darker. "Ah, well I really haven't thought about it much….."

"Oh well then…."

Frankie cut her off before she could embarrass him further, "You sure like to ask questions, don't you? There is a spare bed in this room. Floor 2, Room 12, bunk 6. Don't forget it 'ight? Now let's go."

"Where are we goin'?" She asked beginning ushered back down the stairs.

"Again with the questions! We're goin' back down stairs ta say goodbye to Mrs. Danielle, ok?"

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It was the last day of school. You could just tell by the bus rolling down the street being extra, _extra_ loud; kids hanging out the windows screaming with excitement and somebody's radio on full blast.

The bus pulled up to a dirt road and the doors swung open. Frankie and Mayella got off and stood on either side. Kids of all shapes, sizes, and colors poured out of the bus running down the road like it was the most normal thing ever while Frankie and Mayella did a head count.

"63, who are we missin'?" Frankie said.

"You forgot to count us, stupid." Mayella laughed at him.

"Aww, hush yourself." He slung an arm over her shoulder and kissed her head. She responded by wrapping an arm around his waist and they walking down the road together.

Things obviously had gotten better between them since February.

 _65 kids are living in that house._ I was shocked. I thought of how Miss Reed looked worried about 100 different things earlier. _No wonder._

There was a low whistle from a counselor, "65 kids," Beckendorf said.

"Not counting the kids that don't go to school." Silena said. "Makes you realize just how lucky you have it."

Everyone was in silent agreement. The Stoll brothers didn't even comment.

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Fast forward to Atlanta in the house's kitchen trying to put clean dishes away. A heavy class plate slipped from her hands. It crashed to the floor and shattered.

"Shit!" Atlanta swore loudly and bent to pick up the pieces.

"WHAT'D YOU JUST SAY!?" Miss Reed's shrill, high pitched voice rang out from the kitchen sink and Atlanta winced. As fast as lightning, her bony hand grabbed her by her shirt collar and pulled her away from the broken glass.

Next thing you know, Atlanta is sitting on the counter with half of a bar of soap hanging out of her mouth and the kitchen timer set for 1 minute.

The Stoll's apparently found it pretty funny that the caretaker was more worried about what Atlanta had said than what she had done and were cracking up.

"Where did you hear that nasty word from? Where on this God Blessed Earth did you hear that word?" Miss Reed ranted from her spot on the floor sweeping up the glass.

"Frankie. He stubbed his toe the other day 'n'…." Atlanta had taken the bar of soap out of her mouth to answer but it was quickly replaced when Miss Reed whirled around with the world's most dangerous glare plastered on her face.

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Atlanta was walking out of the kitchen whipping her tongue and looking to kick Frankie in the shin like he deserved. "Shoot, he's prob'ly upstairs mackin' on Mayella." She said to herself, setting the counselors in a fit of laughter.

She walked out to the front room and saw an unnamed older girl and some familiar looking twins in various stages of dress and undress. They couldn't have been more than 3 or 4, still living on the first floor.

"Hey, Anna. You need some help?"

"Yes please. They must not like wet clothes. Angel May spilt down her front 'n' the next thing I know all their clothes are comin' off everywhere. Mary Ann did it jus' ta do it."

Atlanta nodded and picked up a shirt. "Ok," she knelt down to one of them. "Which one are you?"

"Mary Ann Thyfe!" the little girl giggled. Atlanta nodded and told her to hold still and keep her arms up while she put her shirt on.

When all was said and done and Angel May had a fresh shirt on, Atlanta nodded, pleased with herself and turned to the door, her mind set on the new jump rope she'd seen Bobby bragging about and the various ways she could get him to hand it over.

She wasn't but 10 feet from the front door when it exploded.

 _BOOM!_ A menacing evil laughter rang out from where the door used to be. All the children within 30 feet of the entrance were blow off their feet.

"I SMELL DEMIGOD! HAHAHAHA!" said a big booming voice that sent chills down Atlanta's spine.

The dust settled and the monster came into view. The Cyclops was 5 times the size of Tyson and 100 times as ugly. It stood in front of Atlanta wearing a loin cloth made of Mardi Gras beads and chain link fence woven together. He seemed to be hairy everywhere but the top of his head and absolutely huge compared to the demigod he was after.

Atlanta was crouched behind an end table. Watching in fear and wondering what the _thing_ was talking about.

As big as the Cyclops was, I didn't think it would have been able to move that fast, but in one swift movement he reached out and grabbed Mary Ann (or was it Angel May?) around her waist.

"You'll make a lovely appetizer!"

The Cyclops opened his jaws and you could almost smell his rank breath. Mary Ann just screamed her lungs out. I got the felling she would've screamed bloody murder until she was blue in the face if Atlanta hadn't done anything. Or the Cyclops ate her. Whichever came first.

She stepped out from behind the side table and picked up a lamp. "Hey Ugly!" she shouted. She threw the lamp with all her might at the Cyclops' face and it ended up shattering against his nose.

The Cyclops looked in her direction and roared. "Well, what do we have here?" he sniffed the air like Atlanta was a warm dessert he was tempted to try.

"Ahhh, you have the sea in your blood!" he dropped Mary Ann on her head. She made a whimpering sound as she hit the floor and was frightingly still.

"Tonight, I skip straight to dessert!"

Atlanta swore under her breath as he made a mad grab for her. "Oh, Shit!"

She rolled out of his way, dashed under his legs and just kept running, not knowing exactly she was going to do.

You could hear her thoughts as she ran for her life. There was a significant amount of swearing considering she was 6.

 _If I lead him through town, Lisa's dad is a cop, he will know what to do._ She was about half way down the dirt road leading to the long paved one that lead to town.

She cut off sharply and headed to the woods. _If you do that he'll crush half the town, stupid!_

She knew this part of the woods like the back of her hand. It wasn't necessarily easily cutting through all the underbrush and thorns but it slowed down the big nasty guy following her and gave her a minute to come up with a quick plan.

 _Frankie never said anything about this when I moved in!_

The Stoll's laughed at her thought, that is until Katie shot them with a death glare.

 _Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do?_ Questions filled her mind and there was no answer in sight.

She could hear the creek from where she was now. That set her mind whirling. Up ahead was the creek and that old rope swing that wasn't safe to use anymore. If she hit that hard enough she could pull down that old rotted out tree it was attached to and maybe, if she was lucky, that'd get in his way long enough for her to….. long enough to think of something else.

If she was unlucky, which happened much more often than not, the rope wouldn't hold her weight and would snap leaving her back at square one: run.

Sure enough, an old falling tree came into view. A sad looking faded yellow rope hung from the only sturdy looking branch the old tree had left.

 _3…_

"Stop demigod! And your death will be swift!"

 _2…_

"Make me!" she taunted

"As you wish, fool!"

 _1…_

Atlanta jumped for all she was worth and latched on to the rope, hoping and praying that gravity and whatever the base of this tree was lacking did the rest.

 _Creeeaaaakkk!_ The tree fell in a mini explosion of leaves and wood splitters.

 _Yes! It worked! Ha, there's a first! Owwwww! God Bless America! Good things don't last very long, do they?_

Yes her plan did work, but she didn't land too gracefully. Instead of her feet, her right wrist hit the slope down into the ceek with a defining crunch.

 _God, I can't think under these conditions!_ The tree was a great distraction. It was bigger around than it looked from a first glance and fell against the tree next to it at the perfect angle: difficult to get under and difficult to get over, well for a Cyclops anyway.

She splashed trough the creek which gave her a shocking burst of energy and made her wrist tolerable for a minute.

She kept running and managed to scramble up the other side of the lowered creek bed swiftly. She didn't break her wrist to have that thing behind her catch her and do God-knows-what to her and the twins. That much she knew, absolutely.

The tree only gave her about 10 extra seconds and 6 year olds can only go so far, running top speed, in those conditions. Tears of pain, fear, and frustration spilled down her cheeks.

 _I don't know what to do! Okay, breathe. Let's get a few things straight first. This is my dad's enemy. Defiantly. Mom would know what to do, she was smart. I want my mom! She would know what to do. God, I want my mom!_

She had a little light bulb moment in the middle of her thought process.

 _Danielle! Danielle is smart! She will know what to do! She and Mr. Henry will help me!_

She changed course suddenly. New plan: she would lead him through the woods to Danielle and Henry Smith's farm and they would know how to help her. They were a good team and if they all ended up alright Mr. Henry would sneak them both cookies and read her a story from his big book of Greek myths while she dozed on his lap.

And that's exactly what she did. Atlanta tore her way through to woods, getting cut up and bruised all along the way. You see, I realized that she wasn't the most balanced girl in the world. She did her best to hold her wrist close to her, but it didn't work out so well. She couldn't get through, over, and/or under obstacles without both hands.

That was the least of her problems, unfortunately. The Cyclops could crush things in his path, Atlanta scrambled. He taunted her left and right, Atlanta doubted herself every second. He could run forever if he wanted to, she was tiring faster every second she moved.

Atlanta thought it wouldn't ever end. She was so exhausted. Suddenly, she could see the light at the edge of the woods. And I'm not trying to be dramatic, she could really see the sunlight.

She burst out of the woods screaming at the top of her lungs for Danielle and Mr. Henry. The Cyclops was right on her tail, bellowing treats and curses of his own.

Atlanta was right. She came out of the woods on the edge of acres and acres of land; it could easily have been the place she was looking for.

I would've admired the views and scenery but the first thing that Atlanta did was trip and fall into a small pond.

She tripped and fell into the cool water with a splash. She was doomed. The Cyclops gave a final laugh and reared his fist back prepared to crush her where she was.

Atlanta had given up. She put her hands over her head in a last desperate attempt to protect herself and screamed. She hoped and prayed with every last fiber of her being that she would somehow live. She wanted, more than anything in this world at that moment, to be safe.

At the last second, the Cyclops' hand only a couple inches from her back, the water in the lake surrounded her in a big bubble; a rock hard bubble that, when the Cyclops brought his hand down on it, made his fist go _crack!_ He howled, but it was more of in anger than in pain.

Atlanta looked up at the monster in shock. _Oh My God! Oh My God! This is impossible! I should be dead!_

It was slightly ironic, I thought, that she didn't even realize she was in a bubble of water.

The Cyclops banged and smashed and tried as hard as he could to break her bubble. Atlanta swayed slightly inside her bubble; it took a lot of energy for her to maintain it. She could have fainted then and there, but all the noise and Greek curses coming from the Cyclops caught the attention of the residents of the house across the field.

Atlanta's social worker, Danielle, and a tall, buff man I assume to be her husband, Mr. Henry, burst from the house. Mr. Henry swung a 4 ½ foot long sword and did it with the utmost skill. The Cyclops was so focused on Atlanta and her bubble he didn't see Mr. Henry charge him from the side.

Mr. Henry leapt as far as he could up the monsters side and made one quick stab in his rib cage, burying his sword up to the hilt, and let go, jumping off the monster. The Cyclops howled, in pain this time.

Danielle advanced slowly, thinking over her options. She was armed with a sword and shield. The Cyclops was unarmed, which made it all the easier… usually. This one liked to fight with his hands, he was making wild swings and mad grabs for Mr. Henry who skillfully avoided them.

Danielle threw her shield like a Frisbee and smacked the monster in the face. Mr. Henry caught it, thank goodness; otherwise her plan wouldn't have worked.

She nodded at her husband and prayed he saw her. She made her way around the monster unseen, thanks to Mr. Henry's distractions. She got to the edge of the woods and climbed the tallest, biggest tree. She was an excellent climber; she must have mastered the rock wall, lava and everything.

She worked her way up to a branch about 5 feet taller than the Cyclops, while carefully monitoring her husband's well being and progress. He ducked and rolled and dodged and pushed the monster back toward the edge of the woods with just his shield.

When she was up high enough, Mr. Henry, using just his shield and a few nice taunts here and there, backed the monster up right under his wife. She jumped, her sword pointed down at the Cyclops' head.

She sliced the monster perfectly down the middle with a mighty, "For Olympus!" battle cry. She landed not so gracefully and was covered from head to toe in monster dust, but was perfectly fine. Mr. Henry ran to check on her and made a big show of how she "shouldn't be pullin' stunts like that" and "they were gettin' to ol' ferr this monster killin'"…. stuff.

Atlanta watched the whole thing in complete awe from the safety of her little bubble. She didn't pay attention to the multitude of shouts, curses, taunts, etc. coming from the fighting (though she should have been, some of them weren't all that bad), she was just shocked that everything in front of her was actually happening.

She had found it in her to stand up and make her bubble roomier. She had spared the catfish that made the pond their home by allowing them to swim with her. All in all, Atlanta stood there, with her jaw on the floor, looking at Danielle and Mr. Henry in awe.

When Mr. Henry was finished fussing; or rather Danielle hushed him, they went over to Atlanta very cautiously. Atlanta took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was safe. She felt safe. The water melted from around her, filling the pond back up. She stepped out of the water perfectly dry and walked toward Danielle.

Danielle was thinking at a million miles an hour, you good see it in her stormy gray eyes. "Atlanta," She said cautiously. "Was there water inside that… that bubble?"

Atlanta nodded.

"And you could breathe just fine?"

She nodded.

"And- and you were cut up. I saw it. What happened to that? And shouldn't you be wet?" Danielle looked to her husband for some answers before she got herself worked up.

"Hey Atlanta," Mr. Henry butted in. "Why don't you come in 'n' tell us what happened. We need to talk this over before jumpin' to any… irrational conclusions."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"So you're tellin' me that it's all true." Atlanta shut a thick, old, leather bound book. The cover stated, in Greek no less, The Big Book of Greek Myths (The Greek Edition). Mr. Henry and Danielle were standing in front of her, looking… sad.

"You're tellin' me that my daddy is a Greek god 'n' that's why monsters wanna eat me."

The two looked at each other. All they did was nod.

"Well, you two sure are helpful." Atlanta took the book of the table and flipped a few pages. On it was a picture of an old statue of Poseidon and a description.

"'Poseidon was the god of the sea, protector of all waters. Poseidon was the brother of Zeus. After the over throw of their father, Kronos, he drew lots with Zeus and Hades, another brother, for shares of the world. His prize was to become lord of the sea. He married Amphitrite, a granddaughter of the Titan Oceanus. He lived on the ocean floor in a palace made of coral and gems, and drove a chariot pulled by horses. His weapon was a trident, which can shake the earth, and shatter any object. He was second only to Zeus in power amongst the gods.

Poseidon was relied upon by sailors for a safe voyage on the sea. Many men drowned horses in sacrifice of his honor. However, Poseidon was a very moody divinity, and his temperament could sometimes result in violence. Poseidon often used his powers of earthquakes, water, and horses to inflict fear and punishment on people as revenge. When he was in a good mood, Poseidon created new lands in the water and calmed the sea. In contrast, when he was in a bad mood, Poseidon would strike the ground with a trident and cause unruly springs and earthquakes, ship wrecks, and drownings.

He had a series of disputes with other gods when he tried to take over their cities. An infamous example of this involves the competition between him and the goddess of war, Athena, for the city of Athens. To win the people of the city over, Poseidon threw a spear at the ground and produced the spring at the Acropolis. However, Athena won as the result of giving the people of Athens the olive tree. In his anger over the decision, Poseidon flooded the Attic Plain. Eventually, Athena and Poseidon worked together by combining their powers. Even though Poseidon was the god of horses, Athena built the first chariot. Athena also built the first ship to sail on the sea over which Poseidon ruled.

Though he could be difficult and assert his powers over the gods and mortals, Poseidon could be cooperative and it was he who helped the Greeks during the Trojan War. Poseidon is essential to the study of Greek mythology' "

There was silence. Danielle, however, silently noted that she could read Greek perfectly and translate it fluently.

Atlanta put the book down.

"I saw your little side note there. 'The Big Three made a pact after World War 2 that they wouldn't have any more children. They were too powerful and unpredictable.'"

"That is very true. It was Zeus and Poseidon's sons on one side against a son of Hades on the other. They sided with their sons, of course, and the rest of the gods took sides as well. It wasn't pretty. They made the pact to protect the human race. Big Three children are dangerous and power hungry. No one knows what to do with them because they're hard to stop once they get some power behind them. It's better that they aren't around."

She was quite for a moment and then said very, _very_ , softly, "I shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't even exist."

Atlanta's voice shook like she was going to cry and Danielle pulled her close. Her shoulders shook and her breathing came raggedly. "No. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Atlanta. I'm sorry…..I know this feels bad, believe me I do. Please don't think about it that way. I mean yes it's true,"

A loud crack of thunder erupted from some were close by.

"But I mean, you're here and I personally wouldn't have it any other way hunny."

Mr. Henry picked Atlanta up and set her on his lap in one fluid motion.

"Hun, if it makes you feel any better none of us should be here. The gods weren't ever _supposed_ to mate with mortal humans. That why we, the gods children, are so different. We stand somewhere in the middle because…. Well because….. We aren't two pieces of one puzzle like normal people are. We are two pieces of two very different puzzles. But if the pieces fit then, hey, they fit. It was never _supposed_ to happen…But you've got us 'n' we've got you."

Atlanta was curled up against his chest listening and feeling his voice vibrate against her body. She felt much better. Mr. Henry was like the dad she never had and, as a plus, she had the man wrapped around her little finger. Suddenly, she jumped of his lap and turned to look at them.

"You killed that monster to save me. People don't just run around swinging swords. Where did you learn that? Explain. You own me that much." Atlanta looked deadly. Her eyes bore into theirs demanding answers.

Danielle exchanged glances with her husband.

"Why not?" Mr. Henry shrugged. "We've got nothin' ta lose."

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The trio was still sitting on the couch in the Smith's living room.

"Ok let me get this straight," Atlanta said.

"You," she pointed to Danielle "are a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom. And you," she pointed at Mr. Henry. "Are a son of Hephaestus, god of fire 'n' the forge. 'N' both of ya were taken to this camp, Camp Half Blood, by satyrs, goat boys, to be trained by the, like, billion year old famous centaur, Chiron."

The counselors burst into laughter and Chiron chuckled. I think we all needed this after her hearing her last depressing thoughts.

"Met. Fell in love. Got married and moved on with your lives, _even though_ that kinda stuff doesn't ever seem ta happen 'cause bein' a demigod is just _that_ difficult with monsters bein' able ta come back ta life after a while 'n' smell you 'n' whatnot."

Mr. Henry chuckled, "Yeah. That's about right. Happily ever after." He walked over to his wife and bent to kiss her head. She lent up, however, and met his lips with hers for a quick, meaningful peck.

Danielle grinned hugely up at him. I could see them, years ago, walking hand in hand on the beach here at camp. The way she smiled at him and his eyes twinkled when he looked at her I could tell he was right. They were the best modern example of 'happily ever after' I could think of, besides maybe my mom and step dad, Paul, who were positively gag inducing.

"Awww, aren't you two cute?" Atlanta said sarcastically, crinkling her nose and making a face at them.

Everyone laughed, both Atlanta and the Smiths and the counselors around me.

Atlanta's hand went to Mr. Henry's neck were he wore, most proudly, a camp necklace littered with clay beads of all kinds. She took it from around his neck to examine it closer. She studied them trying to guess the meaning of each picture.

"Can…. Can I go?" she finally asked.

Danielle and Mr. Henry exchanged glances.

"That would be the best thing ta do. Next to tell Chiron 'bout her 'cause of the prrffffff...," He stopped in his tracks and Danielle shot him a worried look. He continued as if nothing happened "It's a summer camp. We could very well get her there; she'd be a little late but, hey, why not?"

Danielle shook her head. "Poseidon isn't going to claim her and we've just discussed why. It's dangerous and he'd blow his cover.

"Isn't what just happened not even an hour ago enough claiming for you?" Mr. Henry interjected hotly.

"She'd be stuck in Hermes' cabin 'n' would hate it." Danielle continued.

Travis spoke up, "What's so bad about Hermes cabin?"

Katie laughed "What isn't so bad about Hermes cabin? I was in there for a whole afternoon when I first showed up and I'd pick the Aphrodite cabin over yours any day….. Err, no offence Silena."

"Oh, none taken. Now if you two love birds don't mind, I'm trying to watch."

Katie and Travis looked like someone had smacked them both upside the head. Travis stuttered to find words to defend himself but failed epically. Katie just turned 7 shades of red and turned her attention back to the Iris Message.

Danielle was still talking to Mr. Henry "Sure, she would have the chance to be trained but we could do that just fine ourselves. Besides do you really think that Miss Reed is gonna let her go to a summer camp while everyone else is stuck in that house? That'd be unfair and frowned upon on her part. She could very well lose her job."

"In Miss Reed's defense, I don't think she likes her job whole bunch anyhow."

"Henry, think about this for a second. One: how would we get her there? We don't have the time to take away from our jobs to drive her up to camp. If she really is a daughter of Poseidon she won't be flying anywhere. The state won't allow her to fly alone anyway. Two: she's 6. Do you think she'd survive at that camp? No. Have you met the Ares cabin? Three: she's never so much been out of town let alone across the country. She would get homesick or something and want to come back. Four: she has had enough to deal with in these past few months without the demigod factor in her life, don't you think?"

Mr. Henry was shaking his head the whole time; he firmly believed that she could do it. Up until the last part that is. He finally nodded after looking Atlanta's way with a sad expression, "I see your point. We will train her here then." He said it like that part was completely nonnegotiable.

Danielle stood. "I'll IM Chiron and Mr. D at camp."

She disappeared down the hall and into a room. Danielle immerged moments later holding a leather pouch. She smiled at Atlanta, who was sitting there flipping through the pictures in her book, only half listening to their conversation. "You're gonna wanna see this."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

After the amazingness that is IM-ing, Atlanta had dinner with the Smith's and soon enough Miss Reed called, panicked, wanting to know if she'd seen Atlanta. There was a freak accident and the House was half ruined. The head count and thorough search had proven Atlanta was nowhere to be found. And just _what_ was she gonna do if she didn't find that little girl?

Atlanta just laughed when Danielle relayed this message, but she packed up her book and got ready to leave.

Danielle's car pulled up outside the Home for Children and stopped to let Atlanta out. She leaned around her and her eyebrows shot up.

"The Cyclops did all that?"

Atlanta nodded.

"I'll get Mr. Henry and some of his friends out here to ummm…. Clean that up a bit."

Atlanta got out and before she shut the door she let out a sudden gasp.

Atlanta whirled around to face Danielle again. "He wasn't looking for me!" she said with exasperation.

"What _are_ you talkin' about?" Danielle looked at her like she had sprouted a second head.

Her eyebrows were scrunched in the middle and she fumbled for air. She remembered everything that happened in the last couple of hours. It hit her in the gut all of a sudden, leaving her sort of breath.

"The monster….. he wasn't looking for me….. he… the first person her grabbed was…. Do monsters eat mortals? What? That means that….."

. Atlanta never even finished her sentence before she turned and ran as fast as she could back to the house. Danielle called after her but she didn't stop or even slow.

She ran in the house dodging debris and children trying to clean up the mess and headed straight toward the second room on the first floor.

The room was filled with a bunch of little beds. In the back corner, Anna, the older girl from before, and Angel May stood over one of them. Mary Ann laid there, out cold, her head bandaged up.

Atlanta rushed over, tears in her eyes. This was all her fault. She caused all this. Anna saw her coming, meet her half way across the room and caught her.

"No. Wait. Is she ok? Is she…. Is she?"

"She's fine. It's fine. She's fine and your fine and everything is fine." Anna would've said anything in the world to get Atlanta not to cry.

Danielle came in and passed them completely. She went to the bed and pulled Angel way from her sister. Big mistake. She kicked furiously and screamed at the top of her lungs. _Nothing_ was going to separate them. She bit Danielle's hand as hard as she could and ran back over to her sister and just stood there as still as a statue at her side.

I had never ever seen a dyslexic, ADHD, _and_ ADD diagnosed little girl stand so still. Her eyes were wide and overflowing with concern, fear, and total helplessness, like she would be absolutely nothing without her sister. It would have been creepy if the circumstances were different, but this was her sister, her twin, the only family she has ever had and was ever going to get.

Danielle put her hand on the little girl's shoulder, "She's going to be ok Angel."

Angel gave her one long look in the eyes and turned all of her attention back to her sister. "I know. She hit her head really, really hard and I could…like…," her elf like feature scrunched in the middle for a nano-second as she tried to find words to explain exactly what she could.

But she dropped it. "I know. I just have to be sure."

And there she would stand all evening and into the night, until she grew far too tired to stand.

Late that night, after everyone on the first floor was bathed, dressed for bed, and fast asleep, Angel May finally crawled in next to her sister as carefully as possible, day clothes and all, and immediately fell asleep.

Atlanta got up from the corner she was sitting in this whole time. The tear stains on her face said plainly that she had been crying a lot lately. I couldn't really blame her. She felt responsible; like this would never have happened if it weren't for her. I could sympathize with that feeling.

She left her book on the floor and went over to the little girls in bed. She ever so carefully got them both out of bed. She whipped their faces the best she could and changed their clothes. Atlanta was either really good at it or the twins slept like rocks.

She tucked them into bed and as she got up to leave she kissed their foreheads.

 _All the gods are related. Angel May and Mary Ann are my family._

There was that feeling again. This was the only family Atlanta would ever have and she had to protect them. She couldn't help but feel like she had to keep them safe as her responsibility.

 _They will go to camp with me one day. We will be heroes; me and my sisters._

Atlanta took her book and proceeded up the stairs to floor 2, room 12, bunk 6. She washed her face and dressed for bed. She laid down but didn't go to sleep or even try for that matter. She took out her book instead.

She flipped through the pages and was mostly looking at the pictures. She read some here and some there. She stopped on a page with an old picture of Hermes on it.

She got a funny look on her face and made a sideways smile; the kind that said 'I know something you don't know'.

The picture of Hermes depicted him in winged sandals, winged hat and holding his caduceus. He had elf like features that most of the Hermes kids had. Brown hair, brown eyes etc, etc.

"Gee," Atlanta said to herself. "I wonder who that looks like."

The first two people to come to my mind were the Stoll brothers but I knew who she was referring to.

"Alright kiddos lights out in 10!" Frankie called from the door way. He made a sweep around the room tucking kids in, peeling kids away from their worn out toys, and braiding hair even.

Atlanta tucked her book under her bed. "Hey, Beautiful. I missed you today. You ran off after that lighting wire exploded."

"Uhhh, yeah. Umm, yeah I guess I did." Danielle must not have told her about the Mist because Atlanta looked totally lost.

"You want a story, hun?" Frankie sat in bed next to her and slid Atlanta onto his lap. Well, he tried. Atlanta wiggled away from him.

"No. Not from you."

Frankie looked absolutely flabbergasted. "What? Why?"

"You got me in trouble earlier today so, no, I don't want a story from you."

"Well, then," Frankie began to get up, but he was too late.

The other children heard the word "story" and that set them into a frenzy. Younger kids shot out of bed and hollered and thrusted well read, worn out books at Frankie were he stood. Less enthusiastic older and younger kids alike gathered around bunk 6 and waited patiently while Frankie took his seat, Atlanta got situated on his lap, and he began reading Rapunzel.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was Christmas time at the house. You could see it, smell it and hear it everywhere you turned. Atlanta was helping Anna, and a bunch of other kids closer to her age decorate the tree in the living room. Mayella was sitting on the nearest couch cutting up strips of red and green colored paper to make paper chains that would replace lights.

"This is how y'all spend Christmas every year?" Atlanta asked. She sounded disappointed and concerned, almost, for the well being of the people that spent Christmas in this manner. People that spent Christmas with no lights on their tree, and no cookies to bake _all the time_ , and no stockings to hang on the mantle, no nothing.

"Mmmhmm" Mayella sounded.

"There ain't a chimney. How dose Santa get in?"

Mayella looked up from what she was doing, "Atlanta," she started to say but other kids butted in.

"Who's Santa?" one boy asked.

"Santa Claus. You know he comes and…"

"Santa doesn't stop here." A little girl stated. She put her hands on her hips and looked only a few years older the Atlanta. She looked at her as if to say _Really? Santa?_

Anna laughed, "Yeah, we've all been put on the naughty list."

Mayella looked at Anna disappointedly. Atlanta turned to her with a look of complete horror and heartbrokenness. She looked back at Mayella for an explanation as to what they all did that was so naughty for Santa not to even stop at the House.

Mayella motioned for her to sit on her lap and she did. "Look hunny, I hate ta be the one to say this to you but Santa…"

Atlanta could feel it coming. Here it was; all the lies being confirmed as the sad truth. Deep Breath. This isn't the worst thing to ever happen…. Atlanta stopped her. Mayella really looked upset by this so Atlanta took the hint. "That's ok, May. I get it. I'm seven now, I can handle there being no Santa."

Mayella gave a weak smile of thanks. She _really_ didn't want to have to say it. "Don't think you're not gonna get anythin' though. Everyone gets three presents for Christmas."

"Just three presents?"

"Christmas is about the birth of Jesus Christ. He only got three presents on his birthday and if the Lord himself can deal with only three presents then so can we." Mayella said sternly.

"That makes sense," Atlanta nodded after a moment. Mayella's eyebrows went up at this. She honestly had braced herself for the worst seeing as somehow she always had to be the one to explain this stuff to kids. "But," a small, sly smile creeped on Atlanta's face, "what are they?"

"Well, the government pays for the works to a big Christmas dinner just like Thanksgivin', which is a gift in itself. Everyone gets to eat dinner. Miss Reed works all day long to make sure we are all full. When I say full I mean full, it's the best thing ever."

Atlanta nodded. She was slowly discovering what it was like not to be full all the time. Dinners at the house were first come, first served (with the exception of the children on the first floor) and if you were late you might not get anything at all. It was a good thing they had lunches served free to them at school, for those that went that is. It honestly made me feel bad. I never taken my mother seriously when she said that there were kids that didn't get three square meals a day when she was trying to get me to eat my veggies. I figured she was talking about kids in third world countries or something, not my own sister.

Even for her birthday, Atlanta got a piece of cake, yes, as did all of the other December babies (they celebrate all of them at the first of the month when there is money for things like cake) but then she had to deal with that upset feeling that you get when you eat something rich and sweet and aren't too full of anything else on top of the hungry eyes of everyone else looking at her with longing.

"Then sweet little Miss Reed goes 'n' saves all year long so that everyone gets a pretty new five dollar bill as your second gift." Mayella contiued.

"Well, that's awful nice of her."

"It is. Finally, everyone on the second floor and up takes part in Secret Santa."

"Oh Ok... What's Secret Santa?"

Mayella laughed and went on to explain the rules of Secret Santa, "...and in the end everyone has a gift and knows who gave it to them."

"And this is how y'all spend every Christmas?" This time she sounded happpy, Atlanta couldn't wait for Christmas now. It was simple and beautiful and had a meaning to it all.

"Yes ma'am it is and honestly, I love it."

"Me too."

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

The scene shiftted to Frankie tucking Atlanta into bed. "Night, Beautiful. Happy Birthday... It is the 18th right?"

"Yes, thank you." Atlanta said with a smile. It faded quickly and Frankie noticed.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I still can't believe I had ta go ta school on mah birthday," I could tell right then that she was getting upset; her accent got really thick.

"It happens sometimes, hun." Frankie said.

"Well, I wish it wouldn't. Everyone was expectin' cupcakes 'cause mah mama used ta make the best 'nes 'n' I didn't have 'em 'n' then Danny went 'n' said somthin'," Tears began to well up in her eyes, " 'n' I got all upset like this here 'n' he 'n' his friends laughed at me 'n'"

She couldn't finish because she finally gave into her tears. Frankie just held her and let her cry. He tried to make her felt better by saying, "That's just mean of 'em. That ain't right to make fun of someone that way. Didn't they get in trouble?" and things along those lines but it didn't work very well.

Atlanta finally quieted down after a while, "I miss my momma."

"I know you do, hunny, but you just gotta remember she's in a better place and, hey, one more day and its Christmas break. You won't have to put up with this Danny character no more."

"Yeah," she sniffed.

Frankie brightened up considerably, "But hey, guess what?" He said in a hushed but very excited tone. The smile on his face was contagious. You got that feeling like you just know something good was going to happen. "Guess what I got Mayella?"

"You pulled her name for Secret Santa?"

Frankie shook his head and pulled a little box from his back pocket. "No," he said. "Just a little something special is all."

He handed it to Atlanta and she opened it to find a shinny new engagement ring. "OH MY HOLY BUHJEBUSS, FRANKIE!" she shouted.

Frankie instinctively threw his hand over her mouth clamping it shut. "Shhhhh! What do you think your doin' yellin' like that?" he whispered. A few kids around them stirred but no one woke up, which was a surprise to me. "Damn it girl. You'd think I had just proposed ta you or somethin'." He rubbed his ears as a joke and laughed.

Atlanta was far too busy admiring the ring. There were three diamonds and the one in the middle was bigger than the others on what looked to be a silver band. I'm no expert in rings, as I'm sure you can tell, but Silena seemed to be. She jumped into a rambling. "A one carat square cut diamond boarded by two half carats set on a classic silver band from Jarred's latest wedding collection of the time probably worth, oh I don't know, a thousand or so today. Absolutly beautiful choise and considering the girl..."

"Yes thank you Silena." Mr. D interrupted. Silena pouted to herself but shut up.

"So you're gonna propose to her for Christmas!?"

"That's the plan," Frankie said with a smile. "And if she says yes the first thing I'm gonna do is get us outta this dump of a home. Move us out to New Oleans, she loves it there, or Boloxi even. Anywhere is better than here."

"That's amazing Frankie! Of course she's gonna say yes" Atlanta hugged him in her congradulations and went to sleep dreaming of white dresses and pretty smelling flowers.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

Atlanta's first Christmas at the house was more than likely just as good as any but we will never know for sure. Malcolm, one of Annabeth's half brothers, came into tell us it was time for dinner. Chiron was supposed to have blown the conch horn but didn't so they sent him to find us all.

His eyes lingered on Atlanta and the others but I brushed it off. Later that night at the camp fire I sat in the Posiedon section alone and tried to wrap my head around the idea of Atlanta sitting next to me when she wakes up. I wondered if we would be friends or we would get along as well Annabeth and her siblings do.

Annabeth. I wondered if I should talk to her about it. Surely, she would have an opinion. Hades, she probably had it all figured out already. I decided against it. She looked tired and honestly I was still trying to process everything.

I went to my cabin and fell a sleep the second my head hit the pillow. Of course, I couldn't just have a peaceful night sleep. It started out well enough but got wierder. It was Atlanta's life story again but I felt everything she did and heard all of her thoughts. It was awful.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

"People! Visitors!"

"Not just visitors, a couple!"

"What? Really?"

"Get up! What are you lying around for? Visitors!"

Kids kept shouting and everyone was running around like the world was on fire. The girl that asked the question was addressing Atlanta, who was still in bed. When Atlanta didn't respond to the older girl pushed out of her bunk onto the floor. She woke up about half way to the floor, just in time to let out a "WHOA!"

She hit the floor with a light thump and once she untangled herself from her bed sheets I got a good look at her.

Atlanta was standing there, seething mad with her fists balled up at her sides and a dangerous scowl plastered on her face. She was dressed in tinker bell pajama bottoms and a tank top as her night clothes. Her hair looked like someone attacked it with a power mixer.

"What in God's sweet name," she growled at the other girl who was laughing at her, "are you yelling for? It's _Saturday_. Would you like to have been up all night and be woken by some lunatic screaming her head off for _nothing_?"

"Up all night wif your bad dweams 'n' missin' your mommy?" the older girl cooed at her with a fake baby voice that made Atlanta turn 50 shades of red and her knuckles turn white.

She lunged at the older girl and they both fell with a significant thud. They struggled for a minute. At first the older girl had the upper hand and yanked on Atlanta's long hair. I could feel the painful ripping like it was my own hair. Atlanta quickly used the girls own weight against her a pinned her to the floor but not without a bite here and a scratch there first.

Frankie came in and found this, picked Atlanta up off of the girl, whispered something in here ear and almost literally threw her into a hot shower. "Here's your chance."

Down stairs the couple was walking in. They were linked arm in arm and looked like they stepped out of some movie; the perfect family. The man was tall and very handsome with dusty blonde hair and brown eyes. The woman was shorter than the man even in heeled boots and had light brown hair with hazel eyes. They both looked young enough, maybe late 30s, and had big smiles like they were generally excited to be there.

Miss Reed greeted them and they chatted, something about an appointment and paper work and background checks being in order. I was busy trying to think of possible ways this was going to play out.

I gave up and concentrated on the couple talking to Miss Reed. "New year, new chances. We were never able to have a child so we figured that if we could support a child and give it a happy life with us then we would be happy to." the woman was saying.

"Mrs. Thompson, there are other ways of doing this. You could foster if you don't wish to adopt..."

"No, no, please," Mrs. Thompson interuputed. "We both want to be parents and this is our last chance." She gripped he husbands arm and looked despirate. Mr. Thompson sat forward in his chair and had a similar look on his face. They wanted this chance; you could see it in their faces and hear it in their voices.

"I understand but you must understand. This isn't like adopting a dog or buying a fish. This is another humaning being, a child, that you must care for." Miss Reed's business face was on. She'd seen this all before; happy endings and bad ones. This was a point people needed to understand.

"They need all the love and respect and care as a child of your own. Adopted or foster children are not always the easiest to care for either. They may act out to get attention, they may have certain medical needs or need conciling, but it is your responsibility as parents to handle this as you would a child of your own flesh and blood. This isn't something you can change your mind on, the child you bless today is the child you will send to college one day. You must understand this."

The Thompson's nodded and agreed as if they were begging and pleading. "When would you like to start meeting children?" Miss Reed asked.

"As soon as possible," Mrs. Thompson replied excitedly with a smile.

Miss Reed smiled back, but it was weak. She was afraid she would say that, that always ment today. The day she had absolutely nothing done. Mr. Thompson noticed this. "Carrie," he said, addressing his wife. "Don't you think we should give Miss Reed a day or two? Before we meet anyone? Nothing is happening anytime soon. We could wait."

"No you don't have to. You've waited long enough, I'm sure, for all of this to process." Miss Reed said leading them out into the living room.

Atlanta was bounding down the stairs dressed with her hair some what dired and she was looking to have it braided. She came out of the hall and ran toward Anna who was sitting on the couch.

"Anna, would you please braid my hair?" she asked with a smile.

"You'll have to get in line sweet heart." Anna gestured to the little girls hair she was currently fixing into a pony tail and around her to the various other girls holding there hair brushes looking impatient.

Mrs. Thompson took this opportunity to stepped forward, "Umm, hi," she started "I'll braid your hair for you if you like." She said it with a big smile and all the hopes of being accepted to join them.

"Gee, Thanks Miss." Atlanta handed over her hair brush.

"My name's Carrie. What's yours?" Mrs. Thompson was very shy it seemed. Just nervous I guess, but she spoke with the love and caring of any mom.

"Atlanta Nicole Jones. It's nice to meet you Mrs. Carrie."

"Oh, hunny, just call me Carrie. How would you like your hair done?"

"Oh, any way. It doesn't matter." Atlanta sat on the floor in front of the couch and motioned for Carrie to sit on in behind her.

"How about a nice long french briad? I'm good at that."

"Mmm... what's a French briad look like?"

Anna spoke up. "You remember Mayella's hair not yesturday but the day before that?"

Atlanta thought for a moment "Oh, yes. That would look nice I think."

"I think so too."

That was the start of a very long conversation about Atlanta: all of her interests (gym, horses, the color blue), friends (Lisa and Sammy), school (1st gade), what she wanted to be when she grew up etc. etc. They had obviously taken to each other imeadiantly. Mr. Thompson even joined the conversation when the topic came to football and work and things about their family. I learned that Carrie doesn't work but her husband works as a bridge inspector in New Orleans and that they live not far from the fair grounds in the middle of town. They always wanted a child but could never have one. They seemed like generally nice people. To bad you can't smell things in dreams or I would have picked up on the alcohol on Mr. Thompson's breath before the next scene began to play.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next thing I know Atlanta is moving in with the Thompsons.

She arrived a few days before her Christmas break ended. Charlie (Mr. Thompson) had to work so she spent the whole day with Carrie. They went shopping for clothes, and Atlanta learned Carrie wanted to be a photographer but her husband refused to let her go to work.

He was the kind of man that believed the only thing women were good for was staying home, making dinner, cleaning house, and having babies and when Carrie couldn't get pregnant he finally gave into to her idea of adopting. They got married when they graduated from high school as high school sweet hearts, but when ever Atlanta asked how sweet it was Carrie shut up.

They bought Atlanta a whole new wardrobe, most of which contained the color blue. Not just any color blue, bright, obnoxious shades of neon, teal, and sky blue. She even bought a pair of neon blue All Star Converses. And her face, when Carrie said she could have more than one pair of shoes, was priceless. They got home and Carrie showed Atlanta her room. It was plain white but Carrie promised that they could paint it if she would like.

"Of course! We can paint it all," Atlanta started

"Oh let me guess! Blue!" Carrie laughed.

"Oh, you know me so well!" They both laughed.

Carrie then showed Atlanta her camera. It was a wedding present from Charlie; a big professional type expensive camera that you see on display in stores for tons of money.

"Oh my goodness! Let's play dress up!"

"What?" Atlanta asked. It was Carrie that had the idea.

"Yeah! It'll be like a runway show with paparazzi 'n' everything." She gestured to her camera, "You can wear all the new clothes we just got you!"

"Me? You want _me…_ to be _your_ runway model?" Atlanta said slowly. She was kind of stunned. It'd been a while since she played dress up…

Carrie gave a weak smile then put her camera down, "If you don't wanna, that's ok. It was a silly idea anyway. I should probably get dinner started for Charlie."

Carrie began to get up but Atlanta grabbed her hand. "Wait! No one said it was a bad idea! Let's go!"

And so they put on their own private runway show with Atlanta as the star. She had never had more fun, especially since her mom's accident. When Atlanta ran out of clothes to wear Carrie showed her how to fix the lighting and things on the computer. Atlanta mentioned how much fun she was having. Carrie looked concerned and said, "You miss her don't you?"

"Only every day of my life. It's almost been a whole year actually. But that's ok 'cause I've got you 'n' Charlie now." Atlanta tried to smile but her eyes looked dreadfully sad.

Carrie stopped what she was doing and took Atlanta's hand, "Look, Atlanta. I'm not here to replace your mom. I know that that isn't ever gonna happen 'n' that's not what I'm tryin' to do. I'm here to make sure you're safe and taken care of _like a_ mom. I'm not asking you to call me mom or anything. I just want you to know that I'm gonna be here for you."

Atlanta smiled, "Thanks Carrie." They hugged and Carrie kissed her head. I felt like I was watching some chick flick and this was the part where my mom would be pulling out the tissues.

They Charlie walked in. "What is going on in here!?" he yelled.

The living room was where the photo shoot took place. Carrie and Atlanta walked out of the study and into the living room and saw what he was yelling about. There were clothes and shoes and _stuff_ was absolutely everywhere. Charlie was red in the face with rage. "Well!"

"We were just having a little fun is all," Carrie looked scared all of a sudden, like some little girl facing down Charlie instead of a grown woman; his wife. Charlie crossed the room quickly and, like lightening, brought his hand across his wife face. _Whhack!_ You could hear his hand whistle through the air and connect with Carrie's cheek. The force of the blow made her fall to the floor.

Atlanta screamed in fear and Charlie whirled around and, noticing she was there, hit her as well. I could feel the blow as if it had actually happened to me. Demigods all have extremely vivid dreams but this was crazy. I could feel the sting in my face but I didn't wake up. I found that I couldn't wake up; it wasn't that kind of bad dream.

I just watched as Carrie got up of the floor and Atlanta, in tears, ran to her room. She locked herself up and went to the mirror to inspect her face. She tried really hard not to cry but she couldn't stop the tears from flowing out of pain. She wasn't scared really; too hipped up on adrenaline. She already had a red welt forming around her left eye and on her left cheek. The day after tomorrow was the first day back to school and she would have a black eye for sure.

All that night she couldn't sleep. She was kept awake by her new parents yelling and fighting and the rumbling in her stomach. Carrie hadn't fixed dinner before Charlie had gotten home and…. And what? She didn't want to think about it. She wouldn't ever talk about it that was for sure. If she told Danielle then….. then what? What on earth could she do about it? Nothing that she could think of. She wasn't thinking to hard about it though; she didn't want to. In fact she didn't want to think about anything; she _wanted_ to sleep. Unfortunately for her, sleep wouldn't come.

But it must have because in the morning she found herself tucked into bed by someone, surely Carrie. She went into Carrie's room being very careful not to wake her up. She looked at her sleeping face to see a small scratch from her husband weeding band and a forming bruise. Charlie looked to have already left for work. Today was the day they would paint her room if Carrie was good to her word. Not that she would hold it to her after everything if it didn't happen.

Atlanta crawled in next to Carrie and just as she was drifting to sleep I could feel myself slowly waking up.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I woke up glistening in sweat. The first thing I did was go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. My cheek felt swollen and bruised; like it need some serious ice on it, but when I looked in the mirror I looked just fine. I tried touching my face where it hurt and more or less chickened out. _It hurt._

I didn't want to tell anyone. This was Atlanta's secret. At the same time though, what if I didn't? Maybe she changed her mind and she told Danielle? She is how old now? 15 ish and she was what about 7 then?

I thought about all of this as I showered and dressed for the day. The first person I wanted to tell was Annabeth. That's who you tell when you have issues with your siblings, right? Your best friends? I don't really know. I've never had a sibling until recently. Unless, of course, you counted Tyson but I'd never had too much of an issue with him, or at least an issue I couldn't get over myself.

When I was finished getting ready for the day, I went straight to the Big House to talk to Chiron. When I got to the infirmary, I saw that he and Annabeth were already there; speaking in hushed tones.

"Have you talked to Percy yet?" Annabeth was saying.

I took this as my cue to walk in, "Talk to me about what?" I asked.

Annabeth shut up immediately. That kind of ticked me off. I know they talk about me and the prophecy, but they don't ever talk to _me_ about it. No matter what Annabeth says I am smart enough to pick up on some things, believe it or not.

"Talked to you about Atlanta, Percy," Chiron said. "How are you taking all of this?" He covers for himself well.

"Fine, I suppose. It's just different I guess, and her not even being awake, even more… different. I think there is something you should know…" I told them about my dream; that Atlanta was adopted by a woman with an alcoholic and abusive husband. I told them that I felt everything she had felt and my cheek still hurt from when Charlie had hit Atlanta in my dream.

"I think another counselors meeting is in order," Chiron said when I was finished.

 **~~~PaGe BrEaK~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When the all the counselors had gathered back in the infirmary and I explained my dream all over again, feeling the sting in my cheek. Chiron shook his head and Mr. D seemed more ticked off than usual. I questioned why exactly; we did wake him up early.

"Why did we never hear about this? What did Danielle think she was doing?" he rattled off. _Question answered….?_

"She was scared. She didn't want anything to happen to Carrie or Charlie even. I don't know. She was like seven at the time. She didn't know any better." I said.

Mr. D huffed and waved to the space above the cot that Atlanta and the others were in like her did the day before. "We'll have to find out I suppose." A rainbow appeared and it formed into an image.

Atlanta was getting out of Carrie's car in front of the school. She walked into what looked like the court yard. It was after Christmas break, so, like usual, everyone was in their new clothes and haircuts and talking about what big presents they got. Atlanta sported new clothes, yes; she was rocking her new converse and nice new coat but also a new, big, black and blue bruise on her eye.

She had her eyes trained on the ground and her hair brushed in front of her face. It was the best she could do to hide it and it still didn't work out so well. She ended up running smack into Danny. He turned and yelled, "Watch where you're going, loser!"

Atlanta looked up really quick and saw it was Danny; the same Danny that tormented her in kindergarten last year. She looked down as quickly as possible and prayed the he didn't see her face.

"Sorry Danny." She muttered in the smallest voice possible.

He did see it though. You could tell by the look on his face when she brushed by him to go talk to her friends that he saw her face. He didn't call after her though. As much as the kid's heart ached for her to know he was sorry, he didn't want to make a scene out of fear of what Atlanta would do to him. The Lord and everyone knows that _she will hurt you._

Atlanta kept walking until she got to the spot she usually waited for her friends Lisa and Sam. She practically threw herself on the ground and fixed her new shoes, whipping off the cold mud from the frequent winter rains.

"Hey 'Lanta! How's the new family comin' along?" a bright bubbly voice asked her. You could _feel_ the enthusiasm this little girl spewed with every breath. Sam was a petite blondie with a happy, optimistic look on just about everything. You would never catch her without a smile on her face except the moment Atlanta turned to face her.

Atlanta glared as best she could with the limited movement in the one side of her face. "How do you think?" she said with her teeth gritted.

"Oh my God, Atlanta!" Sam's face was covered with shock. She pulled away in her gasp but then began reaching forward to comfort her friend.

"Don't touch me." Atlanta spit as she snapped her head back forward and her long hair brushing back in front of her face.

"Samantha Ann Smith!" Lisa Logan's shout came from across the yard as she marched toward them. When she got to where they were sitting she pulled Sam's frozen hand away from Atlanta's face. "You got a death wish err somethin'?"

"Leavin'" Sam announced. Sam had plenty of friends to talk to. She had a good sense of humor and knew how to make just about anyone smile. She'd live. Sam, unfortunately, also had a big mouth. Whatever Lisa figured had happened to Atlanta half the town would surely know about by the time school let out with Sam knowing anything about it.

"Sam, you keep yerr mouth shut." Lisa called after her and Sam sent a nod back at her as she walked away.

Lisa sat down carefully in front of Atlanta. "Hey," she got nothing but a grunt/ mutter in response. "Sam's sorry."

"Oh, I bet she is." Atlanta laughed sarcastically under her breath. She sniffled and whipped her nose on her sleeve.

"May I see?" Lisa pressed without any other comment. It had to be something on her friends face. Atlanta didn't particularly enjoy covering her face; her mother always liked to see her eyes.

Atlanta looked up at her best friend. She had fresh tear steaks on her face and her eye looked awful as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "It really hurts Lisa," was all she had to say.

Lisa took it very well. She had a poker face to envy that of the Stolls themselves. That was Lisa Logan in a nut shell. She was the calm, collected, and very put together one of the trio. Sam was just about beside herself with happiness 24/7and Atlanta's life was so difficult this past year or so she became known as the one you didn't want to tick off and the girl with no family. Lisa hoped that being adopted would put some life back into her friend, but clearly that wasn't what was happening at all.

Lisa took a deep breath. She blinked a couple time to keep the tears at bay. It hurt her to see Atlanta like this; she didn't deserve this. Atlanta never did anything to anyone that didn't do something to her first.

She got up, pulled Atlanta to her feet then wrapped her in hug. "It will get better. It'll be ok." It was really all she could say at this point. Atlanta would open up when she wanted to and if she didn't ever want to then, as her very best friend, it was Lisa's job to respect that.

Some teacher blew a whistle and everyone filed in line to go inside. "Now whip yerr face off, woman. Yerr embarassin' ya-self."

Both girls laughed out loud and followed their peers inside.

 **~~~~PaGe BrEaK~~~~~~~~~~**

Atlanta was sitting in class with her head down. Everyone was talking around her and waiting on the bell to dismiss them to the bus line. Her teacher paced in front of the class erasing the board and what not. Her teacher was a large man with a beard and freckles. He watched, out of the corner of his eye, Atlanta passing notes quietly with Lisa as Lisa and Sam talked loudly with another group of girls.

Teachers are trained to notice things out of the ordinary. Atlanta had been favoring the one side of her face when she'd prop up on an elbow. She kept her hair in her face and her head down like she was purposely trying to hide something. And as if that wasn't enough of a give a way, she didn't participate in class or talk to Lisa and Sam like usual or do anything on the playground after lunch.

"Miss Jones, I'd like to see you after class please." He stated plainly.

"It's Thompson now, Mr. Bates." Sam piped up.

"That it is, isn't it?"

"Gosh Atlanta," Danny commented. "Ya haven't done anything all day 'n' yerr still in trouble." He and his friends laughed and so did a few other kids.

"Yes, Mr. Bates." She replied. Completely out of the ordinary. On any other given day she would have had some witty come back to any comment like this, whether it was from Danny or not.

When the bell went off and everyone left Mr. Bates got up from his desk and exited the room with a simple "Follow me please."

Atlanta did as she was told and followed Mr. Bates into the teacher's lounge. She just kind of stood there awkwardly as Mr. Bates dug through the freezer. He pulled out of ice pack and gave it to her as he motioned for her to sit. There was an odd silence as Atlanta just stood there holding the ice pack until she finally sat down, moved her hair, and put the pack to her face.

"Atlanta is everythin' ok at home? I know that you got adopted recently and I'm sure it's a big adjustment. How's everythin'?"

"It's ok, I suppose. Carrie is very nice."

"What 'bout Charlie? I went to school with both of them 'n' know 'em pretty well. Charlie can be…. Well, mean. How did ya get that shiner?"

"I fell at gym is all. I was workin' on my new routine for the competition comin' up 'n' just fell."

"Carrie has you back in gymnastics then?"

"Yes sir," she responded.

"You're a liar, li'l girl." Mr. Bates didn't look or sound mad just disappointed and sad.

Atlanta jumped up, "No, sir! Imma lot of things Mr. Bates, but I'm not a liar. Carrie did put me back in gymnastics 'cause I asked her too."

"And you fell in gym?" Mr. Bates questioned.

Atlanta paused. "I'm only human. I fall all the time, in gym or not," she said in hopes of covering her tracks.

Mr. Bates shook his head, "That's not what I meant 'n' you know it."

There was a moment or two of silence. But that was it. Atlanta simply took a deep breath, set down the ice pack, picked up her books and walked out of the teacher's lounge. As she got to the door Mr. Bates called after her. "Atlanta, at least know that you've got someone to talk to."

That stopped Atlanta dead in her tracks. She turned back to look at him. She took another deep breath to try and settle herself. _Man up, woman!_

"Alright, fine. Charlie hit me. He hit Carrie too….. but that's ok, He was mad 'n' I deserved it anyway, so there."

And with that she left the room and the image changed.

 **~~~~PaGe BrEaK~~~~~~**

"C'mon girl, yerr gonna be late." Carrie said, "I've got yerr school bag just grab yerr shoes. You can put 'em on in the car."

"Carrie, would you braid my hair please?" Atlanta asked poking her head out of her bedroom.

Carrie turned and just stared at her. "Seriously? Why di'n'tchya ask me 20 minutes ago when we _weren't_ runnin' late?"

"Mmm… Not sure." Atlanta hummed.

She sat on her bed while handing Carrie her brush. She had already missed the bus and Carrie wasn't prepared to take her to school so they were running a little behind schedule. Carrie had just about finished braiding Atlanta's hair when Charlie called, "Where the hell do you think you're goin'?"

"Umm… Where we go every day: to school. Duh." Atlanta answered as she tied up the loose end of her braid.

"C'mere girl!" he called. Atlanta walked out to Charlie who was sitting in his recliner in the living room taking a drag on a cigarette and a sip out of his morning beer. He had taken up the habit of smoking inside the house to "save himself the embarrassment of the neighbors seeing". Atlanta wanted to choke on the smoke that he immediately blew in her face as she approached him but kept herself somewhat composed.

"Sir?" she huffed. Atlanta hated having to be polite to this God forsaken man. He was nothing but mean but he was "Dad" now and, according to him, she had to respect that. She tried the best she could but when you dislike someone so much simple manners become the most pain staking task in the world. So what if she huffed at him, just once, after all he demanded of her she thought she could afford to huff.

But in his eyes, she didn't respect him at all. Didn't even try. She huffed at him and made smart ass comments like he was some kind of idiot. The Brat; he called her that for a reason; she didn't deserve anything, let alone all the nice things that he had provided for her. So what if he smacked her around a bit, it wasn't illegal and she deserved it anyway. In his eyes, Atlanta deserved everything he dished out and more.

Charlie grabbed Atlanta by the wrist and turned her arm so the inside of her forearm faced up. "Don't you huff at me brat," he spit. Without warning he took his cigarette and seared the light end of it into her arm.

Atlanta squealed in pain and tried to pull her arm out of his iron tight grasp. "AHHHHH! ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" All this did was make Charlie burn her again. And she screamed again. Charlie popped her across the mouth with the back of his hand and yelled, "SHUT UP YOU BRAT!" Carrie had followed Atlanta in the living room and screamed at Charlie to stop as she grabbed Atlanta's other arm and yanked her away.

Atlanta was in complete shock and pain as she just stared at dear, old "Dad" in front of her. Carrie had to physically shove her toward and out the door; she was too shocked to move. Atlanta hit the screen door but it gave way for her. She mindlessly walked to the car and got in on the passenger side. She held her arm out in front of her but just let it bleed. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she let them. Her mind was perfectly blank except for one question: What did I ever do to deserve this?

Adrenaline faded from her system and as it did the pain flooded in. Just the air in contact with her arm hurt. Atlanta put her head back on the seat and moaned out loud. "Oh Lord, Why me? What on Earth have I done to deserve this? Oh Jesus Lord have mercy on my soul," she prayed. She could hear Carrie and Charlie inside the house fighting and yelling at the top of their lungs. Atlanta didn't care. She sat and she cried. She cried for her, she cried for her arm and for the family that just her presence has seemed to have ruined, and, most of all, she cried for all the other children out there in the world that have had experience the same pain as she was having to face now.

Carrie finally emerged from the house slamming the door behind her. She got in the car and put her head on the steering wheel and sobbed. She tried to tell Atlanta how incredibly sorry was but couldn't bring herself to sob anything but "I'm sorry" over and over again.

Atlanta had come to her senses enough to at least try and treat her arm. She dismissed everything Carrie was saying; she had nothing to be sorry for. She took some napkins out of the glove compartment and pressed it to her arm trying to ignore the searing pain that made her want to wince. She still whimpered but being able to slam the glove box shut made up for the scream building up inside of her.

The slam shook Carrie out of her sobbing state. Carrie carefully took Atlanta's arm to examine it. She reached around for the first aid kit that she kept under the passenger seat and proceeded to clean up Atlanta's arm the best she could. She had whipped up most of the blood and stared at them: two bright red round dots that disfigured Atlanta's originally smooth skin. She was hoping, I guess, that the more she prayed and wished that they would just disappear that they would do just that. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Shut up. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, so just stop it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm late." Atlanta said with an emotionless expression.

She was staring at Charlie who had come to stand on the front porch. Carrie stared at Atlanta for a minute and followed her gaze to see her husband walking toward them. In one single act of bravery, the one and only that Atlanta would ever witness from her sweet, back ground type, adopted mom, Carrie revved up her car and griped the wheel tightly. She punched the gas and lurched the car forward, ending up inches from hitting Charlie head on. She held his gaze for a whole second in hopes of making a statement before throwing the car into reverse and pealing out of their drive way, leaving him in the dust, skid marks and all.

 **~~~~PaGe BrEaK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Atlanta did end up being late for school. They arrived not too long after her and Carrie leaving the house considering how fast Carrie was driving, but she was still late. Her mind was buzzing. There was no chance in hell she was walking around with these God damned scars on her arm. She was in the process of thinking of a way to fix it. She went to the restroom to wash herself up one more time. She was already late 5 more minutes at the most wouldn't hurt her any.

Atlanta splashed some cold water on her face and rubbed away most of the tear streaks; what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, no one need to know about what happened this morning. As the water hit her face she felt so much better. Her mind cleared for a minute and she felt energized and almost good, considering everything. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed her lip. It was swollen and busted from were Charlie had smacked her, but there, right in front of God and everybody, the cut healed itself back together.

"There's no way," Atlanta said to no one in particular. She poked and prodded her lip some. It was still swollen a bit and hurt a ton so Atlanta brushed it off. There was no way that just happened. She was crazy for even considering it.

As she left the bathroom she stopped dead in her tracts. Some random memory from her past just slapped her across the face. She remembered the Cyclops chasing her and her running for the Smith's farm. She remembered jumping into the water and watching, but not really watching – looking, at Danielle and Mr. Henry fight and kill the Cyclops. She remembered the pain in her wrist hurting the worst and the more she stood in her bubble filled with water and the more she wanted to be safe the less and less her wrist hurt.

She had never really thought much about being a demigod since being adopted by the Thompson's. She had plenty of other things to worry about. Standing there now, just about half a year later, she put two and two together and made a bee line for the water fountain.

She drank and drank, came up to breath for a whole second and drank some more. The cold water filling her up felt _amazing_. She felt like she could do anything; from run a marathon to move a mountain. No drug in the world would have been able to give her this feeling. She would have stayed there and drunk all the water in the world if it would make her feel this good, this high above the world, all the time.

"Gosh, Atlanta. Save some for the fish, won't you?" came a voice from behind her.

 _I am a fish. Or related to one at least,_ she thought. This made her laugh out loud as she turned around to face the speaker. "I'll try my best Danny."

Danny grinned and his blue eyes shown with mischief, "Playing hooky?"

"Nah, just running late. Slept in a bit is all."

"Lucky." Atlanta stepped out of his way as he bent down to get a drink. He hiccupped and she giggled, which caused him to laugh. He looked up and smiled at her and hiccupped again. They both laughed out loud.

Both her and Danny walked back to class their class together and would burst out laughing every time he hiccupped. Atlanta felt great, Danny was being somewhat nice to her for the time being, and the inside of her left forearm was good as knew. She had forgotten, almost entirely, why she was so upset earlier. As they walked into class there was a substitute sitting at the Mr. Bates desk, which basically meant they weren't doing anything today. _How much better can it get?_

 **~~~PaGe BrEaK~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Everyone sitting in the infirmary seemed to exhale all at once. Well, maybe exhale seems too peaceful, but you know what I mean.

The first person to speak was Silena but all she had say- well whisper- was, "That's awful." She proceeded to bury her head in Beckendorf's shoulder.

Annabeth got up and took the sleeping Atlanta's left arm and flipped it over carefully to see the inside of her forearm. Her arm was decorated with cigarette burns scars; a dozen or so at least. Some were more resent than others. A couple were a light brown but others were white circles that refused to tan like the rest of her skin.

"She didn't think it through. She healed herself so no one would notice but Charlie already knows about it. He noticed what she did, I bet, because she didn't heal these."

I don't think that Annabeth has ever been more right; the next thing that was on the Iris Message showed exactly that.

Atlanta walked into the house and called for Carrie, "I'm home! What's for dinner?"

"Hey doll. Imma workin' on it." Atlanta found her way to the kitchen to see Carrie up to her elbows in tomato sauce making lasagna. "This better taste good; I've spent the better part of my whole day on this right here," Carrie said waving a noodle at her daughter.

They both laughed comfortably. "I'm sure everything will be delicious." Atlanta said as she dug around in the fridge for a snack.

"Hey, now, homework first. Then snack."

"Fine," Atlanta exhaled and did as she was told.

Carrie came poked her head into Atlanta's room whipping of the remainder of the sauce. "Ok, that'll cook for an hour 'n' hopefully will go well with a salad 'n' sweet tea 'cause that's all I've got. Remind me we've got ta go to the store one of these days" She just waits in the door way for a moment watching Atlanta do her homework. "Hey are you ok?"

Atlanta finally looks up confusion written all over her face. "What?"

"Please don't do that. You know what." Carrie looked almost as devastated as she did that morning.

Atlanta racked her brain for a moment. I was amazed she forgot about the cigarette burns. But she didn't forget. She just pushed the thought as far away from her as possible, to the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, in hopes to forget. The light bulb went off in her head after a second of reaching for the memory.

"I'm fine actually, fast healer I guess," Atlanta said as she showed Carrie her arm. Carrie couldn't believe it. She crossed the room in four whole steps as quickly as possible. She took Atlanta's arm in awe to examine it.

"That's not possible," she muttered under her breath. "It's a miracle."

Carrie dropped Atlanta's arm and just looked at her for a second. After a minute or two of eye contact Carrie finally said with tears in her eyes, "I always knew you were a blessing to me but no one said anything 'bout you being any angel."

Carrie wrapped Atlanta in a hug and kissed her face. Atlanta returned her hug with all she had. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. She almost cried; all she could think about was how much she wanted to truly be Carrie's angel. She would never tell Carrie the truth about her being some half breed demi blood... Half god demi breed… or whatever it was called. Unless some all powerful something – or – other said otherwise she would be Carrie's little angel forever.

Carrie was her family now and, if Atlanta knew no other truth, she knew that you do everything you can for your family. If being an angel was something that Carrie needed to cope with whatever was up with Charlie then Atlanta would be an angel for her. Because that was what family does for family. You are everything that they need you to be because they need it.

They had their little moment (that made Silena teary eyed) and Atlanta got her homework finished and then Charlie came home.

As the Thompson's were sitting at the dinner table, everybody was quite; Charlie had come home in a very bad mood. Carrie insisted they pray before they ate and Charlie did so reluctantly. Carrie thanked the Lord for the day and the food and her beautiful little angel. "Let's eat," she finished.

Half way through the meal Charlie finally spoke up. "How's your arm feel?" his voice oozed with mockery. There was even a smirk sliding on his face from behind his beer can. Atlanta was furious. She could've have laughed out loud and rubbed her perfect arm in his face but no; she had to play angel. For Carrie.

And so she played angel. "I feel good. My arm feels fine, thank you."

"Fine?" he growled.

She smiled her most innocent way, "Yes, sir, of course." Perfect angel.

Charlie ripped at her arm and turned it over to see what she was talking about but there was nothing to see. He was livid. No livid was an understatement, demented or rabid might have fit better. He stood up and through back his chair. "That's not possible!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his face red with rage. "What'd you do?! You little witch! Don't fool around with me you brat! What the hell!?"

"I didn't do anythin'," Atlanta said standing up to face him. "Imma fast healer. Guess you didn't hurt me as bad a you'd hoped to."

Charlie just stared at Atlanta. She was surprisingly calm in front of this full grown man that would have sooner killed her than have shown her any kindness. She was lucky to have gotten this far with someone that hated her so much. Atlanta held her ground well for a seven year old.

Charlie wrenched her arm away from her side and jerked her into the living room. "We'll see about that," he muttered.

"Charlie, stop it! What do you think you are doing?! Stop!" Carrie screamed. All the courage that Carrie had this morning, that she used for the sole purpose of protecting Atlanta, had completely evaporated. She was hopeless again and just stood by and watched.

"No Carrie, don't. Just don't, let him go." Atlanta commanded.

Charlie had a fresh, light cigarette hanging from his lips. He took one long drag and seared it into Atlanta's left arm, ashes and all. She screamed. It hurt. For her to know that she was never going to be able to heal this, that she could never make the pain go away, hurt that much more. She couldn't think of any pain in the world that would hurt worse than this; the man she was supposed to call 'dad', that promised to take care of her, hating her so much, so much as to go through the trouble to put her through this kind of horrid pain, it was tortuous.

The real Atlanta- or rather the current Atlanta- lying in the infirmary cot flinched and moaned in pain. It startled everyone to see her move. She had rolled over on to her back at some point and now her face and left arm had contorted themselves in pain. She cried out loud in her sleep, "No."

Charlie slapped Atlanta (in the IM) across the face the way he did that morning. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to scream in the house? Shut the fuck up!" He burned her again mercilessly. She found it. This hurt worse. He wasn't going to let her scream. She had no outlet for the pain, no way of release, but to scream and now he had taken that away from her too. She bit her lips to stop herself from screaming but couldn't help but crying. Tears ran down her face and her knees threatened to give out and, when Charlie finally let her go, she sobbed out loud and ran to the bathroom, locking herself in.

The Atlanta in front of us flinched again. Her left arm twisted around like it had a tick or something. Her sleeping face scrunched in pain and a moan escaped her lips she had been biting. She relaxed, finally, when Charlie released her in the IM. Atlanta's arm hung down off the side of the cot exposing the inside of her forearm the way Annabeth had done and you could see two bright red cigarette burns had taken the place of two little white ones.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Everyone in the infirmary was freaking out; the Apollo kids especially. There was a whole lot of "That's not possible's" and "How could that be's" and so on. The Apollo kids didn't have any idea on how to heal Atlanta, but, as it turns out, they didn't have to. The burns just faded back to the little white dots they were before. I think that baffled them even more than the burns being on her arm in the first place. Chiron prayed silently to the gods to… protect her, I guess.

Mr. D didn't ask for any more images of Atlanta's abuse. He kind of just let the Iris Video play and we saw the important things, abuse or not. We had seen enough to know that Charlie was, without a doubt, an abusive alcoholic asshole. He did nothing but push them around and thought nothing was wrong with it. Atlanta's situation with Charlie reminded me of Gabe. He hit my mom, but she was able to get away from him. I wondered how Atlanta and Carrie got away. Atlanta wouldn't have put up with this guy forever. She would have, even at the age of 7, thought of some way out of this situation. Right?

I watched more or less patiently as Atlanta's life flashed before us. It was kind of like watching a movie. We were all waiting for the hero or, in this case, heroin, to stand up for herself and everyone else and make everything right again. As we watched we learned a lot about Atlanta and her life.

Charlie loved to party with his friends. His friends, oh so happened, to be drunks like he was. They would come over and stay up all night long drinking, just for the sake of getting drunk. Atlanta hated Friday nights because the start of the weekend brought most of his friends to their house to drink.

And besides that, Atlanta liked school. It was some place other than home. She was okay at math and English when she took the time to see her numbers and letters straight, she had plenty of good friends that she spent time with, she had gymnastics, and she did her best to deal with Charlie as little as possible. Atlanta never did tell Danielle about anything Charlie did, even when she asked. She just got a new home, it seemed, after an eternity of being alone and she didn't want to be alone again.

She never bothered to tell anyone, but that didn't mean she didn't wish and pray for someone to notice. It seemed to her that people just skimmed over the things that they didn't want to see. How do you not notice this though? Her marks and bruises were the first and only thing _she_ saw when she looked in the mirror. Which Atlanta were other people looking at? Because the one she saw should be getting all of the wrong kind of attention. Her yearbook picture had bruises on her neck from Charlie choking her, for goodness sakes!

Lisa was her confidant just the one time in the court yard about the first time Charlie hit her, but that was it. She knew about the cigarette burns, but was too young to understand some things shouldn't be kept a secret. In poor Lisa's mind, she was her best friend and, as her best friend, had to respect that Atlanta didn't want to share.

Atlanta eventually opened up to Lisa, without telling her absolutely everything of course. She told her that Charlie just wasn't a pleasant person to be around and his friends were totally annoying. Atlanta spent most of her extra time at Lisa's house. Mr. and Mrs. Logan were amazing people and she and Lisa were such great friends that they might as well have been sisters.

Atlanta became good about putting on a mask and "playing angel", even if she couldn't really be one anymore. She didn't let much of anything that Charlie did bother her and she didn't share anything with anyone, not even Carrie. She told her that nothing was wrong, that she was fine, that it didn't hurt as much as she thought it did, and that she didn't want to talk about it even though Atlanta cried herself to sleep every single night.

Gymnastics was her only outlet for her pain and anger until Charlie decided he didn't want to waste _his_ money on "that stupid, disrespectful, snot nosed little brat."

Brat was all he ever called her. Atlanta doubted that Charlie even knew her real name.

Atlanta, on the inside at least, became hateful toward him. She knew more curse words to describe her adopted father than I think I've ever heard my own mother say out loud. She wasn't hateful in general; she had plenty of love to go around. She loved everyone… but Charlie. He was the exception. She couldn't stand him. Period. And not only because of what he did to her personally.

She could take his bull shit; the battery and the verbal abuse, but it destroyed Carrie. Not only physically, but mentally; he never ever had a kind word for Carrie and he took the time out of his day, each and every day, to tear her up inside. She was in a permanent state of mind that she would never be good enough for anyone, because that's what years and years of it being drilled into your head does to you.

Carrie wasn't the kind of person built for Charlie's abuse. You would think she would have grown thicker skin by now, but it never happened. She would lie down and take whatever he dished out like a helpless puppy in front of the alpha male. It took strength, determination, and just plain guts to stand up to a bully like Charlie and Carrie didn't have it in her. Atlanta couldn't blame her in the least. In her eyes, Carrie held no blame what so ever, she was just an angel in a bad situation.

If I was put into her place, the next person I would be mad at besides Charlie would be Carrie because she didn't _do_ anything. She was constantly, continuously sorry, but would never stand up for herself, let alone Atlanta. There was the one time that Charlie burned Atlanta and Carrie about ran him over, but that was it. I would've hated them both, but Atlanta understood that Carrie couldn't handle Charlie; they weren't equal in that particular kind of strength.

Sometimes Atlanta wondered if _she_ had that kind of strength. Sure she could deal with it all, but she wondered how long she would be able to pretend nothing was wrong. Her entire life now was a big game of pretend and she wasn't sure if she liked it that way or not. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and this whole… experience… made Atlanta strong…. She hoped. If the rest of the world was anything like this, she was going to need all the strength she could get….

Atlanta often contemplated things; life beyond this one, if this is how all the other adopted children spent their time. She wondered if anyone would miss her if she just left and never came back….

She did that once, but didn't get incredibly far. She hopped out of her window one night, and just kept on walking. She was about a mile outside of town around dawn, and about a mile into the next one by the time Carrie had found her bed empty and called the cops. They found her in a local dinner by the time the breakfast rush had slowed down. Afterward, Charlie had her window bolted shut. She openly questioned him (yelled at him really) about it, saying that if he hated her so much why didn't he just let her go; it would make his life that much easier. That little outburst earned her a slight concussion and a dented bed room wall that was mutually agreed on to be hid behind a poster.

She couldn't figure it out. Charlie hated her with every fiber of his being and yet he locked her up and kept her close…. A 7 year old couldn't fathom a reason from this behavior.

Atlanta would sit and wonder about her mom the most; where she was, what she was doing, or what she was thinking about. Memories of her and her mom together faded away and she didn't like it. She couldn't remember what her mom smelled like, and the sound of her mom singing to old Tim McGraw tunes the shower had evaporated a long time before that. She remembered her smile and eyes, and what she did for a living, and that she was simply the most amazing woman on the face of the planet. Atlanta didn't remember; however, exactly _why_ her mother had been simply the most amazing woman on the face of the planet and _that_ is what bothered her so much. She missed her mom and the way she would hold her when she was scared, giving her the protection that only a mother could give. Carrie Thompson was great and all, but she wasn't anything like Samantha Jones. She missed her mom. All. The. Time.

Meanwhile, reality and life settled into place around her world of pretend and Atlanta did her best to be open to it. Could you mix the two and be perfectly sane? She tried. Atlanta just waited for the day she would lose her mind, if it wasn't already gone. She would go to school and act like nothing was out of the ordinary and come home and wallow in the strangest state of lost. Lost in _her_ reality; not everyone else's. Lost in her nightmare come true….

Sooner rather than later, Atlanta stopped thinking about trying to get away from her problems. This was one magic act that just wasn't going to happen. They simply weren't going anywhere. She contemplated life without Charlie. If it was just her and Carrie, she decided, that she would be one happy lady; they both would be. If Charlie would just run away and never come back, well, that would be too good to be true….

One faithful Friday night, Atlanta was lying awake in her bed tossing and turning. She was supposed to have been asleep hours ago, but Charlie had friends over. 6 to be exact. 6 loud, obnoxious, boisterous, drunkard friends and Charlie included made 7. 7 horrid men were downstairs, but Atlanta could hear them as if they were right outside her door.

When they had arrived each had brought their own case of beer, 2 had brought a few bottles of scotch each, and of course there was Charlie's, already built up, private stocks. The last of them arrived round 8 and it was now half past 2.

 _Surely they have worked their way through most of that retched shit,_ Atlanta thought. She had come to this conclusion by doing the math in her head and counting. She had heard 156 cans open this evening, give or take a few from before she went to bed.

If she ever had to hear that God-awful Crack-Pop-Fizzing noise ever again she swore to herself she would scream.

 **Author's note!: This one, singular, part of the story I think should be rated M, for suggestions of sexual conduct and attempted gang rape. As much as I tried to make it appropriate for most teen age readers, I want to let you all know. If you aren't comfortable with reading this section skip down to the next group of bolded, random letters and you will find out how Atlanta kicks some serious ass. Thanks.**

She got so bored around midnight that she actually tried to listen to their conversation and count the beer burps (32). They laughed like crazy people and she kind of wanted to know what was so funny. She realized about 20 minutes into this that they were discussing things that an almost 8 year old shouldn't be listening too.

Some of the men talked about their wives wanting more children and that they had no reason to be….. unsatisfied.

It was truly disgusting to her. How pathetic could grown men be? These people had lives and jobs and talked about things like this in public?

As if Charlie beating and abusing his wife and adopted child wasn't enough of step down on the maturity ladder, he was now down stairs, laughing it up, about a topic that should hardly be open for conversation.

That went on for a while. Atlanta wished they would stop so she could sleep. She wished they would go jump off a bridge and never come back. Hell, she would help them over if she had too; she just wanted to sleep.

She put a pillow over her head and tried to block out their words and clear her mind. She tried humming to herself, talking to herself, she got a book to read, but, even 2 hours and some odd minutes later, nothing worked. The more they drank the louder they all became.

"So Charlie, how's Carrie?"

Atlanta sat straight up in her bed. _NO!_

The conversation had changed not all that dramatically; from some men's "great satisfaction" to other's "horrid dissatisfaction". And now one of those bastards had brought up Carrie.

No. No. No. Atlanta didn't want to hear this _at all_. She wanted none of this information, but…. at the same time she wanted to hear his answer. She wanted _them_ to hear his answer and laugh him off of the face of the planet.

"Damn fine, as always."

 _Bull Shit, you bastard! You disgust me to NO END!_

"Oh really, now?" There was silence and then laughter. They knew he was lying and Atlanta didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"C'mon man. How the hell am I supposed to know? She doesn't have anything to do with me."

 _Damn straight she has nothing to do with you, you asshole!_

And there it was: the turn for the worst.

They laughed. They laughed that kind of laugh that guys laugh when laughing is the only thing that can make what they are about to say less of a seriousness.

"But my God, she's fine."

"What? Dose she work out or something?"

"Nah, man. You can tell. She's all natural."

 _Fucking disgusting pigs! Uhhgg!_

"I told you she's got nothing to do with me. Even if she is as fine as you say, how would I know?" That was the only thing Charlie had to say on the subject. These were strangers talking about Carrie this way.

 _No!_ Atlanta's heart pounded in her ears as they laughed again. She was almost sick with worry for Carrie and, yet had no idea what was going on.

"Then you won't mind if I give it a go?"

"Yeah! Charlie was never as good with the ladies as we were."

"Man, once I'm finished with her, she'll be begging for you. We are doing you a favor."

 _AHHHH! This isn't supposed to be happening!_ They laughed and laughed, but Atlanta kept her ears open for Charlie's voice. She hoped and prayed Charlie would put his foot down somewhere; that he would respect some type boundary. He must have cared for her somehow; they had gotten married hadn't they? Surely, he cared too much to let this happen. This is where it ended, right? Joking was ok, but Carrie was his wife, right? There are some lines that are never crossed, aren't there?

Sadly, Charlie, acting on past feelings and an old flame, was too much for Atlanta to hope for.

"Take your best shot."

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxQWEASDZXCRTY[ THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOULD SKIP TOO! ] POILKJMNBHGFxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Atlanta's heart sank into a deep dark pit somewhere inside her stomach. Her head was spinning as she heard insane laughter and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Time stopped and suddenly the sound of drunken laughing men seemed very far away. Atlanta knew what she had to do; completely and undoubtedly. She didn't know how yet, but she knew she had to protect Carrie.

Atlanta took a big gulp and her heart solidified into something as hard and as cold as ice.

Time sped up from there on. Atlanta threw off her covers and opened her night stand drawer. She dug through her socks and underwears until she pulled out a sliver kitchen knife that she kept due to past incidences. She wished it were bigger, longer, something that would scare the shit out of those guys, but this would have to do. It would have to.

Atlanta poked her head out of her bedroom door to make sure the coast was clear. She had, maybe, 5 extra seconds thanks to one of those idiots falling half way down the stairs in all of his drunken glory.

She made a mad dash across the hall and past the bathroom to Carrie's bedroom. Atlanta listened intently at the door. It was amazing to her that Carrie could sleep so soundly through all of this. Even with Charlie's friends getting closer, Atlanta poked her head in and saw her sleeping like a rock.

Atlanta's guard was up and adrenaline rushed through her. She turned to see 3 of Charlie's biggest friends standing at the top of the stairs. She wanted to press herself to the wall and fade into it, but that wouldn't help Carrie any. Instead she took another deep breath and braced herself, standing in the center of the hall; feet shoulder width a part, and holding her knife at the ready, but pointing down toward the floor.

"What do you think you're doing?" She hoped that her voice wouldn't have sounded do childish, but it came out with a bit of squeak to it. She tried again, "You shouldn't be up here!"

"Well, I could ask you the same question, couldn't I? What do you think _you're_ doing awake at this hour, little girl?" The biggest man asked. He was trying to be clever, but he was hilariously drunk.

"Charlie! We've woken the brat!" Someone called over the railing to Charlie and she could hear the rest of them laugh as well.

They didn't seem fazed at all, which damaged Atlanta's courage a bit. "Get the hell outta my house!" She brandished her knife and did her best to, at least, look intimidating. If looks could kill they all would have dropped dead the second the entered the house months ago. Atlanta never had that kind of luck.

"Oh-ho ho! And what is that gonna do, young lady?" The man who addressed her first laughed loudly, as did everyone else. Her courage diminished even more. Atlanta wanted Carrie to wake up so badly, but at the same time she didn't.

"Get outta our way, kid. We've just gotta little surprise for Ms. Carrie."

The man that called down the stairs to Charlie turned around with a retched smile sliding across his face, "Speak for yourself, man. I've got a pretty big surprise for Mrs. Carrie."

They all laughed like the disgusting, horrible, pigs that they are. For Atlanta, though, that was the last straw. Red rage blurred her vision and she began to shake with anger. She gripped the knife so hard her hand hurt and knuckles turned white. She was filled with this power and strength that she didn't know she possessed. The air around her grew hot and heavy. Her hair began to beat across her face and pictures and doors shook in their places on the walls. Atlanta's feet were slowly, but surely raised of the ground and the next thing you know she is standing in the middle of a mini hurricane.

From a drunkards point of view she looked like a demon out of a horror movie. Unknowingly, Atlanta and her small storm advanced on the men with her arms out wide, like she was welcoming them to their death. Frozen in terror, they screamed for help. Charlie and the rest of his friends rushed up the stairs to see what was going on. Charlie pushed to the front of the pack and saw, first hand, Atlanta in all of her terrifying glory.

Atlanta, lost in protecting Carrie, was extremely pleased when he nearly pissed his pants.

As she past in front of the bathroom door, pipes burst sending water spewing everywhere. The power of her hurricane acted like a magnet for the water and became wrapped in a free standing whirlpool; a storm within a storm. They melted together making a single, much, much stronger storm than before. The house walls shook and Atlanta laughed at the terrified faces of Carrie's attackers, making her look like the devil spawn in the eyes of the drunk and deranged.

In my eyes, she looked like something to be incredibly jealous of. How she was able to harness her anger and purpose to create something this destructive was beyond me. But this is what the gods meant, isn't it? Children of the big three could do destructive stuff like this effortlessly, it seemed, and, without enough control to balance it all out, could do much more harm than good. Would an almost 8 year old have that control?

No, and she didn't have the energy to sustain a hurricane either. Atlanta floated closer to the floor and the winds calmed around her just in front of Charlie. Water spilled down in a light rain and Atlanta pushed her knife up under Charlie's chin.

She was still floating at about his height and was able to look directly in his eyes when she said, just above a whisper, "How dare you? How DARE you?! You are nothing more than a worthless piece of shit! If I ever seen your face in this town ever again, I swear you will rot in Hell where you belong! Now, do as I say and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Atlanta hit the floor with an ear busting BOOM! The house rattled and shook like it was going to collapse, but the only things that did where the drunks standing at the top of her stairs. Every last one of them ran away like frightened little children, cussing and screaming at the top of their lungs, out of the house and into the night.

Meanwhile, Atlanta's energy and rage diminished and she lay down on the floor, right where she just caused an earthquake, and fell asleep while water soaked her to the bone and she clutched her knife for dear life.


End file.
